


Fandom Advent 2016

by Toast_Senpai



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Advent Challenge, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Dress Up, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 26,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8722510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toast_Senpai/pseuds/Toast_Senpai
Summary: Twenty-five prompts, mostly related to Christmas-time and December in general. Each chapter is its own individual one-shot.





	1. Not Going Home For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to participate in this event, the list is here on [tumblr](http://threeplusfire.tumblr.com/post/153457605411/fandom-advent-2016)  
> After Kinktober I told myself I wasn’t going to do anything like it for a while. Well, I lied. I love Christmas too much not to do this.  
> Prompt: Not going home for Christmas  
> Pairing: None, just some good ol Trott/Alex/Ross friendship goin' on.  
> 

“Well, this is just predictable,” Alex sighed. 

“I guess we should have left early like everyone else,” Trott said. 

“And here I thought Turps was lying when he said there was going to be snow up to our knees. A right Christmas miracle this is,” Ross said, then pulled the heavy door shut.

The three stood closely together in the hallway of the office, wondering how they were going to make it home. Tomorrow was Christmas, and had they not been frantically trying to get a minecraft trailer done, they would be already be with their families like everyone else.

“We can either stay here or try to make it to Trott’s,” Alex suggested. “As much as I _love_ the office, it doesn’t have any food.” 

Trott’s flat was only a few blocks away, although they were going to have to walk since no cars were capable of driving in such deep snow. Trott gave a displeased grumble that didn’t sound genuine. 

“I _guess_ you’ll have to come over. Can’t have you big boys starving.”

“That’s a good Trotty.” Alex ruffled Trott’s hair.

“Are you going to cook for us?” Ross asked. The other two followed him back to their recording room where they put on their winter gear. 

“I think I have some chicken in the freezer. What should I make? Any requests?” Trott pulled his hat over his hair after he had smoothed it out.

Alex grinned. “Forget the chicken, do you have baking supplies? I could really go for some sugar cookies.”

“That sounds lovely,” Ross agreed. “Or a trifle.”

“Or some fudge, with a little bit of peppermint bark on top.” Alex hummed, looking wistful.

Trott shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips. “You lot need to eat proper food, even if it’s Christmas. And you better call your parents sometime to tell them you probably won’t make it home.”

Ross zipped up his coat. “You think this snow is just gonna keep falling into tomorrow?”

“The weather is saying it’s supposed to keep on snowing for hours yet.” Alex held up his phone.

Trott wiggled his fingers once his gloves were on. “Let’s go, boys. It’s gonna be quite the trek.”

“We’re gonna get soaked,” Alex moaned. He then smirked and gave Ross a wink. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Filthy,” Ross laughed. 

They went outside, Trott urging Alex to go first since he was the biggest and could make the best path. Then Ross after him, and finally Trott, who made the valid point about his legs being the shortest. The three of them faced the heavy falling snow and in a line trudged a path through the coated sidewalk. 

Once halfway there they took a break, their feet and jeans wet and cold, faces bright red. Alex’s beard had bits of ice in it from his breath. He and Ross switched places, and they finally made it to Trott’s place feeling bone tired and frozen from the waist down. 

Inside Trott’s flat they stripped off their clothes. In just their underwear they fought over who should have the bath first. Alex came up with the idea of them all sitting on the edge of the tub to let their feet soak in the hot water. Trott and Ross had no complaints. 

“Bring the chicken,” Alex said, and so Trott reluctantly did. 

The three were pressed side by side in the little room, feeling drained but also comfortable because of the warmth. In the bathtub floated the frozen bag of chicken breasts. 

“I could have done the same thing for it in the sink,” Trott said. 

“The sink is tiny and the water goes cold too quick,” Alex explained. “Growing up, my mom always threw it in a full tub if she wanted to use it in an hour.”

“That’s only kind of strange,” Ross said. His eyes were closed and it looked like he could fall asleep right then and there. “This is like a slumber party,” he mumbled. 

“Sure is,” Alex agreed. “This is the last place I thought I’d be at on Christmas.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Trott asked, though he didn’t sound angry. 

“Means what it means. None of us have ever spent Christmas together.”

The bathroom went silent.

Ross blinked his eyes open. He tipped his head back in thought. “You’re right,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “We’ve always gone home to our parents.”

“In all the years we’ve known each other, how come we’ve never spent even one Christmas together?” Trott leaned against the wall. “It seems silly, now that I think about it.”

Ross and Alex agreed by saying nothing. They watched the chicken bob in the water, and Alex swirled his foot in a circle. The liquid was starting to get cool, and he shivered. Pressed against his side, Ross felt it. 

“Maybe it’s time to get out? You do have extra blankets, don’t you, Trott?”

“‘Course I do,” Trott said. He stood and stepped from the tub, threw some towels on the floor so his guests wouldn’t make a mess, then went off to fetch the spares. 

It was late, almost midnight. Alex’s stomach growled loudly and Ross poked at it. Alex swatted at his hand and grabbed the bag of chicken, giving it a feel all over.

“Seems pretty soft. Probably best to finish it off in the microwave.”

“That would be ideal,” Ross agreed.

The two got out and went to the kitchen. They passed Trott in the living room where he had pushed the sofa to the side and was making a nest of blankets and pillows in front of the television. He saw them as they passed and went after them. 

“I don’t have any clothes that’ll fit you two, unfortunately. But it won’t take long for your things to dry in the dryer.”

“Mate, it’s boiling in here,” Alex said. “I’m fine in just my undies.”

Trott glanced at Ross, who shrugged. “It _is_ pretty warm.”

“You two are like furnaces. I changed into sleep pants and a sweater and I’m _still_ chilly.” Trott let his shoulders drop. “If you want I can turn the thermostat down?”

“It’s fine,” Alex said, and set a plate of the chicken in the microwave. He pushed the button for defrost. 

“We’ll live,” Ross said. 

“Suit yourselves. There’s packs of hot cocoa in the cupboard next to the fridge. The kettle is under the sink.” He went back to the living room. 

After Trott had a nice space set up, one that was sure to be cozy, he was presented with a mug of hot cocoa. He held the steaming mug to his lips, hiding his smile.

Trott said he would cook the chicken, but Ross expressed that he wanted to do it. It was quite entertaining, watching his friends move about the small kitchen in just their boxers. It reminded him of when they had all lived together, and his heart clenched at the thought. He missed it. Sure, it had its problems, but there was something lovely about living with your closest friends. Trott went and sat on the floor on the blankets and stared at the small Christmas tree he had put up in the corner of the room. It had a couple gifts under it for his parents, but that was it. He felt a bit guilty about not getting anything for Alex and Ross. Usually they gave each other things sporadically and for their birthdays. Christmas was more of a family event. He sat there for a while, sipping the hot drink and thinking about when they used to be in the same house.

“Trott, it’s ready!” was called from the kitchen a while later.

Trott found the feast offered to him with twin grins of satisfaction. Ross and Alex had located instant mashed potatoes and had also cooked up some of the carrots and broccoli he had in the fridge. There was even a side of macaroni and cheese that Alex proudly said had been made by him. 

They took the food to the living room and spread it out on the floor, and each laid on their stomach in a row, eyes on the tv that played _Home Alone_.

Even though they had seen it a dozen times, they still laughed and added nonsense commentary. It felt good, right even, to be together like this, with the snow coming down outside. A certain warmth filled them that wasn’t from the food or the heat, but from just being in each other’s company under the same roof.

When the food was finished Trott took their plates to the kitchen. Coming back he noticed Alex asleep, curled up next to Ross who was drowsy, his eyes fluttering as he tried to watch the end of the movie.

“Time for bed,” Trott said and turned off the tv. Ross hummed and let his head fall onto a pillow. Trott stood for a moment, unsure. He should _probably_ go to his room, where there was a bed, because if he didn’t then his back was surely going to be sore the next day. He stepped towards the doorway. 

“Trott,” Ross called quietly. Trott turned and looked at him, barely visible in just the colorful lights from the tree. “There’s plenty’a room.”

Trott bit his lip. He quickly fetched his own blankets and pillow and brought them back. He took up his spot opposite Alex and got comfortable. He could feel the heat that seeped off his friend mere inches away. It helped lull him to sleep. 

In the morning, one could hardly see out the window. The snow wasn’t as heavy as last night, but the light flurries that fell swirled with the wind and made for blizzard-like conditions. It was wonderful, but also distracting. 

The flat was filled with three men on their phones, talking to their parents about how they would not be able to make it because of the snow, but as soon as the roads were clear they’d set off. All were reassured that it was best to stay safe, and that they were still to have a good Christmas even if it was only the three of them. 

“Since we’re stuck here, what should we do?” Ross asked. He was on the floor wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, his hair a wild mess.

“Breakfast first,” Alex said, then yawned, jaw stretching wide. “I swear I saw a box of pancake mix last night.”

So Trott made them pancakes, and afterwards they played video games. There was a different feel to it, playing and not recording themselves, sitting side by side, knees knocking and shoulders pushing, loud yells shaking the quiet flat. They felt immensely young, and even though it was Christmas and there were no presents to open, it didn’t quell the effervescent mood. The blinds were up on the windows and the white, snowy light filled the living room, highlighting the warm skin of Ross’ and Alex’s bare upper bodies. Trott caught himself staring multiple times at their exposed, pale skin.

They may not have went to their actual homes for Christmas, but they had ended up in a place that was synonymous with the word.

“Maybe we should make this a thing,” Alex said. “It doesn’t have to be on Christmas, but just sometime close.”

“You guys can come over and we’ll make sweets all day,” Trott said.

Ross lit up at that. “Are pies included in that?”

“Of course they are,” Trott reassured him.

“Then count me in.”

Trott, sitting in the middle of the two, was squished as Ross and Alex excitedly leaned into him, already making plans for next year. Silently, Trott thanked the weather for the good work it had done.


	2. In The Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s December second and yet there’s no snow here in southern Wisconsin. I hope it’s not gonna be another one of those green Christmases!  
> Prompt: In the snow  
> Pairing: None- Trott/Alex/Ross friendship  
> 

“Trott, do you remember like, three years ago when we made that atrocious Rebecca snow demon?” Ross asked. He leaned back in his chair so that he could get a better look at his friend, who sat hunched over in front of his computer.

“Snow demon?” Alex asked. His head appeared over the divider.

“Yeah,” Ross said. “When you were off somewhere we made a horrifying snowman. I think it had carrots for hair. It was going to be you but then we added tits and Trott supplied the Rebecca voice.”

“I remember,” Trott said. He took off his headphones and looked at Ross. “For the video we added a slow motion of me drop-kicking it. That was pretty fun.”

Ross let out a laugh at the memory.

“I guess you guys did make a video. I think I watched it,” Alex said, head tilting.

Trott stretched. “So, what brings this up? Fancy building another snow demon?”

Ross’ wide grin was answer enough. It had snowed last night, and the sun had helped melt it a bit into the good sticky stuff. They grabbed their coats and pushed their feet into boots before making their way outside.

The parking lot of the office hadn’t been plowed and so there were spots of untouched snow where there were no vehicles. Together they worked on assembling the base, and with three of them it went faster than those years ago. It was bigger, too, although just as ugly as Rebecca had been. The bottom was more of a square than round, and the middle was made up of odd lumps. The head was lopsided, and they had to search the area for what to decorate it with.

Alex found a crisps bag in one of the rubbish bins. He turned it into a sort of hat, and couldn’t stop giggling as he secured it on. Ross came over with yesterday’s newspaper, soggy enough that it was easy to mash into pieces that became the odd-shaped eyes. Trott shoved a glass beer bottle into the face right where the mouth would be.

The three stood back and admired their creation.

“Crisp Trott the snow demon,” Alex said. “A perfect name for this Frankenstein’s monster.”

“He just wants to be loved,” Trott sobbed and embraced the wet pile of snow, rubbing his face into the side of it.

“I think you need to put it out of its misery, Trott,” Ross said. “Use those karate skills of yours and send it flying.”

“We just brought him into this world and now you want to kill him? That’s too cruel.” Trott moved himself in front of it, arms spread. “I won’t let anyone hurt him.”

Ross and Alex exchanged a look. Then they charged towards Trott, their yells rough with the cold. Trott didn’t have time to move as he was pushed backwards into the snow demon. It crumpled easily underneath him, and Ross and Alex landed on either side of him.

“Jerks,” Trott laughed.

“It had to be done, Trotty.” Alex sat up, grin wide on his face. He reached down next to himself and grabbed a fistful of snow. “Who’s up for a little snowball fight?”

Trott and Ross scrambled to their feet and slipped on the snow as they took cover behind parked vehicles while Alex used the remnants of Crisp Trott’s body as fodder for their fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [snow demon video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FONPHrBVUM) for anyone who might've forgotten it.


	3. Filming Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you live do any organizations set up lots of Christmas lights in a park? Over here they do and you make a donation to drive through to look at them. It’s wonderful, especially when there’s snow.  
> Prompt: Filming something  
> Pairing: None, Sips/Lewis friendship ft. Sips’ son  
> 

After Lewis had participated in a lengthy jingle jam stream, he took the three pm flight to Jersey and was there within an hour. He was picked up by Sips with the family car. Lewis slid into the passenger seat and buckled up.

As Sips found the parking lot exit, Lewis turned to look into the backseat. Sips’ son sat behind his father, staring at Lewis with large, brown eyes.

“Hey, big guy,” Lewis greeted with a smile.

“Uncle Lewis,” the boy replied happily, wiggling in his booster seat.

“How was your birthday party?” Lewis asked. Sips had told him that yesterday had been a really big deal. Hosting a children’s party with five year old guests was not an easy task.

Kurt bounced excitedly, his feet kicking against the back of Sips’ seat. “I got a blaster and Angry Birds and dad tried to eat all the cake!”

“I did not,” Sips interjected.

“Yeah-huh,” his son yelled back. “You said I only get one piece and the rest was for you.”

“Sips, that’s not very nice,” Lewis scolded with a laugh.

“Big liar,” Kurt huffed. He looked out the window for a moment and the car went quiet.

Lewis refocused on the front, eyes fixed on the festive store fronts that they passed. There weren’t many people out on the street. The sun would be down soon.

“Dad, sing postman Pat.”

Sips reached for the dial on the radio and turned it up. “Let’s listen to some Metallica instead.”

“But we _always_ listen to Metallica.”

“Because it’s the best,” Sips said.

They stopped at a traffic light. Lewis adjusted the shutter on the vent in front of him that blew warm air onto his face. It was fairly chilly outside because of the wind, but there was no snow—there hadn’t been on the island for a few years. But with houses covered in various lights and lawn decorations it still felt like the holidays were happening.

“I’m hungry,” Kurt said suddenly.

“Me too,” Lewis agreed.

“What do you babbies want?” Sips drawled, foot coming down onto the gas as the light turned green.

“We’re not babbies!” The boy sounded flabbergasted and Lewis couldn’t contain his laugh. “I want nuggets. McDonalds. Please, Dad, please can we?”

Lewis watched Sips’ lips pucker and forehead wrinkle. He was struggling to come up with an alternative. It took a moment for Sips to steel himself.

“What about pizza instead?” Sips asked. He flicked a glance at Lewis.

“Hmm… okay,” his son said with a great sigh. “Lewis wants pizza too?”

“I’m up for anything,” Lewis said.

“Anything,” Kurt repeated. “Do you like anything?”

Lewis thought that maybe he should have sat in the back next to the boy. “I like a lot of things,” he said.

“Do you like me?” He was the spitting image of Sips when he squinted his eyes. Lewis was sure that if he ever saw a picture of young Sips, it would be like looking at his son. “What about my dad?”

The last part caught Lewis off guard, and he stuttered. He shifted and pulled at the seatbelt across his chest, trying not to look over at Sips. He focused on the patiently waiting boy.

“Of course I do. I like both you and your dad.”

“I like you, too. You’re cool.”

“That’s a nice thing to say.” The comment made Lewis feel a little special. “Thank you.”

“Lewis, cool? Who’s the liar now,” Sips said teasingly, though not quite loud enough for his son to hear. Lewis raised an eyebrow, and Sips gave him a quick wink.

The pizza place wasn’t far from them. They ordered and sat, catching up on what was happening at the office with the jingle jam while Kurt was next to Lewis, coloring. It was always enjoyable visiting Sips, especially when his son wanted to go around with them. Lewis wondered what they looked like to strangers. Did they look like a family of sorts? The thought warmed Lewis. Sips was only slightly different when he was around his son. He didn’t make the same kind of lewd jokes, but he was still that classic dad figure, something Lewis thought he himself would never be. Like when he listened to Sips and Pyrion talk about their kids during the podcast, he took pleasure in observing Sips interact with his son. And he too learned a great deal about a child’s world from being around the young boy.

After they were done eating it was dark outside. Sips drove them to the park where the light display was set up. It wasn’t much, but Kurt was still excited. He struggled out of his seat, desperately fighting the seatbelt. Lewis helped him, and then he was out of the car, running on short legs towards the entrance.

Sips and Lewis followed behind and they easily caught up to him where he stood in front of a large inflatable Santa. Sips scooped the boy up and placed him on his shoulders. Lewis found himself taking out his phone as they walked along the path. He switched it to video and recorded the different scenes that they passed. Among the reindeer and Frosties there were a few cartoon characters that Kurt pointed out with enthusiasm, shouting their names. Faintly, Christmas music played from somewhere. The wind tossed their hair and reddened their cheeks, but they went around the whole park two times. When Kurt was tired of seeing the various lights, he begged to get ice-cream.

“All right, fine, we can get some,” Sips said.

There was a place just down the road they went to. They were the only ones there. Again Kurt sat next to Lewis and took his time with his dish of chocolate ice-cream. He was only halfway done before he looked at Lewis and held out his hand.

“Let me have your phone,” he said.

Lewis didn’t hesitate to pull his phone from his pocket, unlock it, and hand it over. Across the table Sips gave him a pointed look, but Lewis just shrugged. There wasn’t anything inappropriate for a kid to find on his phone, so he didn’t have any worries.

Lewis had left the camera app open. Kurt held the phone in one hand and pushed the red record button. He lifted it up and his father came into view.

“Dad, say hi,” he demanded. Sips made an exaggerated frowny face and then stuck out his tongue, eyebrows raised high. It prompted a giggle from Kurt. “Say hi,” he said again.

Sips pushed his chin down against his neck and used a deep voice to say just that. The phone shook as Kurt laughed. Then he moved it towards Lewis’ face, and it was quite close. Lewis scooted to the side and smiled at it.

“Uncle Lewis, say hi.”

“Hello,” Lewis said, and lifted a hand.

“Okay, now me.” Kurt shoved the phone at Lewis, who took it and turned it around until the screen was filled with the boy. “Make sure to watch me eat this ice-cream.” He lifted a big spoonful and shoved it into his mouth, whole body vibrating, legs thumping into the chair legs. He pulled the spoon from his mouth and raised it up, pointed it at the phone. “That’s a wrap,” he said, then smacked his hand on the table top.

Lewis stopped the recording and the phone was pulled from his hands. Kurt knew just how to open the file and watched it over and over while he ate the rest of the ice-cream, an endless stream of laughter bubbling out of him.

Sips said nothing, just shook his head. He stared at Lewis for a while, and it took Lewis a moment to notice. He stared back until Kurt slid the phone across the table to him, saying a polite thank you for letting him use it.

The video stayed in Lewis’ phone along with the one from the park. They were the only two videos that always remained in the gallery, starred as favorites.


	4. Law Enforcement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple years ago I watched the tv series Fargo, the one with Martin Freeman in it. I don’t know why I did because I don’t even like crime shows. But this little thing is somewhat inspired by that—at least the relative setting of it. This is Alternate Universe – Police.  
> Prompt: Law enforcement  
> Pairing: Sips/Trott  
> 

Small towns like these never saw much action, but that’s what Sips liked about it. He could go to his favorite diner, sit at the corner booth, and smoke all he wanted while he read the paper. He’d heard that everywhere around the U.S. they had banned smoking in public establishments. Thankfully that law wasn’t able to touch his little spot of paradise. He’d lived here in northern Wyoming for almost all his life, and it was where he’d like to be when he reached the end of it.

His now retired father had been a private investigator. That was too much work for Sips. He went for the easier route; a simple police officer. He’d graduated high school just barely and went straight into training. It came naturally to him and guaranteed a few decent benefits. His father had been proud, was _still_ proud, and Sips often wished his mother was alive so that she could be proud too, her dumb son now turned into an honorable man.

Sips leaned back in his seat, feeling his muscles relax into the worn out vinyl. His heavy winter coat sat next to him in a heap along with his hat. It was into the single digits outside, a common temperature for December. The morning sky was a dreary overcast that let weak light in through the large windows. It was supposed to snow later, and it would no doubt add a few inches more to that already on the ground.

He took out his pack of Marlboros from the front pocket of his flannel along with a lighter. The smoke filled his lungs and he let tired eyes scan the front counter. The diner’s son was working alone, like he did every morning before he’d be joined later by his sister just before the lunch rush. Sips knew the guy’s schedule. He knew just about everyone’s schedule. There weren’t more than six hundred people living here.

Okay, so maybe that was stretching it, but he’d been coming to the diner his entire life. The owner’s son was in his mid-twenties—too young for him, Sips tried to constantly remind himself. Sips was ten years his senior and hadn’t ever been in a stable relationship. It wouldn’t do, lusting after the short, surprisingly cheery young man.

Plus, they shared the same first name. That would make things in bed a little bit awkward.

Not that he thought about those things. Sips released the air from his lungs and the smoke swirled towards the yellow light hanging over the faded orange plastic table top. Although, it wasn’t like anyone called him Chris besides his father. Everyone around him had gotten so used to his nickname that he even signed checks with it, and they were easily accepted. And he knew that the man busily taking orders went by his last name among friends.

Sips didn’t have to wait long for Trott to come over, pad of paper in hand, pencil behind his ear, and a toothy grin on his shapely lips. Sips tapped the cigarette into the ashtray and stared into the brown eyes. Eyes the same color as his own, but not as small, not as hard.

“Hey, officer Sips. The usual?” Trott didn’t bother writing anything down.

“You know it,” Sips drawled.

“Two buttermilk pancakes with pecan syrup and a side of black coffee, coming right up.” Trott turned on his heels and went back the way he had come. Sips’ vision lingered on places he shouldn’t, but he had been doing it for years, ever since Trott had turned nineteen and tried growing out a patchy beard.

He still remembers off handedly mentioning that he liked Trott better with a clean shaven face. The beard had never made a return, and Sips hoped that Trott hadn’t taken offense. But it was true—Trott’s lanky frame and bowl-like hair style were best suited with a smooth face, one that showed off as much of his pale skin as possible. It was a stark contrast to Sips’ own tanned hide. Even the winter months didn’t fade him. He spent too much time outdoors.

Sips shook open the newspaper laying on the table next to the salt and pepper shakers. He scanned the headlines but didn’t really read them. There was never anything interesting in this town, and that was fine by him. He liked the boring, stable quietness of his home. When nothing interesting was happening, it gave him time to just live. He remained on duty all day and every other night, but he had freedom to go where he pleased. The police cruiser he used was an old 1995 Chevy that he’d been driving ever since he joined the force. It was reliable and the heating still worked. He’d taken around quite a few passengers in it.

And not all of them had been people he’d arrested.

Sips’ lips curled into a half smile around the end of the cigarette. The car had seen quite a lot of non-police related happenings, more than he liked to admit. But he didn’t regret any of them. And there was still time to add to that collection of memories. Sips let his eyes wander towards the counter where behind it Trott was scooping the pancakes onto a large place. Sips folded the paper back up and tossed it aside.

He glanced out the window. A friend of his father’s hobbled past. The old man stopped and raised a hand at Sips, who returned the greeting. Then the man was on his way, boots leaving a trail in the snow on the sidewalk.

“Here you are,” Trott said. Sips watched him set down the plate, syrup dispenser, and mug of coffee. “Anything else I can get you?”

Sips desperately wanted to tease him. Trott was so used to the automatic speech, the repeated lines and mechanical thank yous he got in response. Sips wanted to see if he could shake that up, draw out a startled look.

He was just thinking up something good when his radio beeped. Sips sighed. He held up a finger to Trott to signal him to wait, and unclipped the radio from his belt. He moved the cigarette from his lips and held it up to his mouth and pushed in the button. “Go ahead,” he said, trying not to sigh.

“We need you to check out the abandoned house at the end of Pine Lane. A caller said he saw a suspicious vehicle on the property a few hours ago,” the voice on the other end crackled.

“Will do,” Sips replied, then returned the device to his belt. There was no way he was going until after he had ate his breakfast. It was probably just a bunch of teenagers spraying graffiti again. Why couldn’t they do that tonight when he wasn’t working?

Trott raised an eyebrow at him, hands behind his back. “A suspicious vehicle? Sounds interesting.”

“You think so?” Sips asked, caught off guard. He sure didn’t think it was very remarkable.

Trott nodded. “Anything’s more interesting than listening to old men nag about their wives all morning.”

Sips let out a short laugh and agreed. When his mother had been alive, his father had sat at the diner counter and complained about her, only half-heartedly of course. But that had stopped ever since she’d died.

Trott leaned against the table and Sips busied himself with trying to finish the cigarette. It burned away quickly, and he blew smoke to the side as he stubbed it out in the ashtray. He flicked his eyes to Trott.

“You want to come with?” It wasn’t something he’d done for years, taking someone unauthorized with him. But the call had been nothing serious and this was his chance.

Trott’s eyes lit up, and in the yellow light they turned almost golden, sparkling in excitement. “Can I?”

Sips grinned. “Sure thing.” He picked up a fork. “Just let me finish these, then we can go. Better see if your sister can cover for you.”

Trott spun around and made a dash towards the back door that connected the diner to the house behind it where Trott lived with his family.

Sips cut the pancakes into pieces, not able to uncurl his lips from their smile. If he’d have known it would be this easy, he’d have asked the same question several years ago. Today just got a whole lot better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really digging this AU... might come back to this in the future.


	5. Live Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Live music  
> Pairing: Trott/Alex  
> 

Alex liked to sing after sex. It was always in this soft, pleasant voice that seemed lightweight, just enough to float. Trott would be pressed up to his side and in the dark Alex would use some established tune or make up his own and fill the room with his voice, but it was never loud or full of spirit like he was when on stream or recording. It was something different and special, and Trott felt privileged to hear it.

And then one night after they were blissed out and sweaty and definitely ready to go to sleep, Alex sprang from the bed. He was naked, but that didn't stop him from finding his guitar and bringing it back to where Trott laid propped up on his side.

Alex leaned back into the headboard and set the instrument in his lap. "I've had this tune in my head ever since we got home."

Trott nodded, fighting to keep his eyes open, waiting.

Alex adjusted his fingers and strummed a few cords. But it wasn't right, and it took him a couple more times to get it to what he wanted. He played the tune he had made up, and at first it sounded a bit sad to Trott, but then it picked up with new vigor. It didn't take long for Alex to start humming along, using every bit of his vocal range to fill the space with sounds where words might later go.

Trott managed to crack open his eyes. Alex's head was tilted down, the outline of it glowing in the soft yellow light of the desk lamp behind him.

"An angel," Trott found himself muttering. "I've died and gone to heaven, and an angel is singing to me. The perfect Christmas present."

Alex didn't hear him, too caught up in his song. But Trott knew it was already coming to a close by the way the cords were being lengthened. Soon, Alex slowed until he gave one last pass over the strings under his hand. The room became full of warm silence. Trott was just about ready to fall asleep.

"How was it?" Alex asked.

Trott blinked, looked up and saw Alex staring at him with his eyebrow raised. His hair was a mess but it still looked damn good.

"Beautiful," Trott said, before he turned over onto his other side, facing away. "Now let's sleep. Gotta be to the office early."

Alex set the guitar next to the bed and shut off the light. He bedded down under the covers and curled against Trott's back. "Was it really beautiful?" he asked quietly.

"Mhm," Trott managed. He was too tired to say more.

"Good. Because it was about you. I just didn't wanna sing any lyrics. Bit embarrassing."

That got Trott's attention even if he was about ready to pass out. "Why?"

"They were pretty mushy and far too romantic." Trott could hear the grin in those words, and a kiss was placed in his hair. "Maybe one day you'll hear them. 'Night."

Trott laid silently for a moment, sleepiness ebbing away slightly. Now he really wanted to know what they were. "Alex?"

There was no response. Trott sighed. He spent a few restless hours trying to think of what he could use to bribe Alex.


	6. Fast Cars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fast cars  
> Pairing: None. Alex, Trott, & Ross.  
> 

Ross couldn’t go anywhere without wanting to get behind the wheel of a super car. Each country they went to he had spotted the sleek machines and expressed how he wished to drive them, if only for a few minutes. He’d only gotten to do so two times.

When ILGA flew them to Thailand at the start of December, Ross was overwhelmed with the appearance of Bangkok. There was so much going on he had forgotten all about cars. They were the last thing on his mind. That is, until they happened upon a racing circuit.

There was only one driver out on the track that morning, and the bright red Ferrari Enzo easily caught Ross’ eye. They ate their lunch in the deserted stands and watched it whip past them, getting an earful of the buzzing it made while no doubt going over 100mph.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ross sighed. “You hear that? Beautiful.”

Alex hummed in agreement, mouth full of french fries. Trott held up a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh sun.

It went on like that for some time, the Ferrari looping the track, making frequent pit stops. When they were done eating, Trott and Alex followed Ross down onto the track for a closer look. The man who owned the car and his friend greeted them, and they thankfully spoke English well.

Ross was practically drooling. He stood a few inches from the Ferrari, fingers twitching. The owner explained all the specs in great, lengthy detail, and the more that was said the more anxious Ross became. He looked much like a dog, and someone was waving a delicious piece of bacon just out of reach.

And then the man asked if any of them wanted to have a go, and Ross was wide eyed and speechless. Alex and Trott struggled to keep themselves composed, but it was hard not to crack a smile when it looked as though Ross had just had an orgasm. They stepped back and offered Ross as the chosen one, and once he was given a helmet, he buckled himself in. Alex and Trott exchanged a look that said “pretty sure this isn’t all that legal but we’re in a foreign country and no one else is around so we might as well let Ross have his fun.” They got out of the way and let Ross do just that.

Ross lined up at the worn starting point of the track and tightened his hands on the steering wheel. He’d been told he was allowed three laps, and he was going to make them count—i.e. he was going to go as fast as the car would take him. The owner gave the car’s bonnet a pat, moved to the side, and let Ross know he was clear to go with a thumbs up. Ross shifted into gear and floored it. The tires screeched and he took off, going from 0 to 60 in about three seconds.

He felt the powerful engine underneath him purr, the vibrations rattling up through his legs and into his chest where his heart pounded wildly. It was intoxicating, having a machine specifically build for power at his will. His foot just about had the pedal all the way down. He flicked his eyes at the dash and watched the speedometer rise swiftly. Ross felt both weightless and grounded, and this was better than the last two times he had driven a car like this. Here he was free to go as fast as he wanted, and there was no traffic to be mindful of, just the vast expansion of oval tarmac laid out in front of him.

He couldn’t even hear his own breathing over the yell of the engine, and it was glorious. He flew around the track once, twice, and when he was on the third lap he could have cried, because it was going to be over far too soon. So he slowed down on the final lap to a much more normal speed and tried to savor it. He committed to memory every sensory detail he could, from the way the cabin smelled of oiled leather to the smooth roll of the wheels over each little bump. The end line approached and he slowed.

Ross put on the brakes and sadly turned off the engine. He sat for a just a moment, saying goodbye. Then he opened the door and hoisted himself out. The helmet was returned, and he thanked the owner profusely for the opportunity.

“Mate, how was it?” Alex asked.

Trott gave Ross a hit on the back. “Your face is bright red. Little hot in there?”

All Ross could do was smile shyly. He cleared his throat. “Do you think we could find the toilets?” he asked softly, standing rather stiffly.

Alex and Trott were quiet for a moment. But then they erupted into laughter, almost doubled over with how strong it shook them, and Ross raised his eyes to the clear sky in an effort to will away his embarrassment.


	7. First Christmas Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasted all day watching the boys do their fantastic music livestream, then I had to do homework, and thus I didn’t have any time to write something proper. Forgive me OTL.  
> Prompt: First Christmas together  
> Pairing: Sips/Lewis  
> 

Lewis thought it was going to feel more, well, _special_.

It was indeed a surprise when on the night of the twenty-third Lewis had been on the jingle jam stream with his dad when suddenly Sips appeared at the door. He came into the room and stood close to the wall, a finger to his lips. It was almost eight pm, and so Sips didn’t have to wait long before the stream ended and Lewis was set free for the night.

Introducing his dad to Sips was a bit awkward at first, but the two got along well enough. And it didn’t last long, because his dad was tired and wanted to go home, so Lewis released him after thanking him for showing up because the fans loved him.

Then he was left alone with Sips, who promptly told him to get bundled up because they were going out.

The pub was packed full of people celebrating the day before Christmas Eve, yet they squeezed themselves in among the drunken bodies to get to the beer. Lewis asked Sips what he was doing in Bristol the night before Christmas of all times.

“I wanted to spend it with you,” Sips said, mouth close to Lewis’ ear so that he could catch the words.

Lewis found himself nodding, Sips pressed flush to his side, their coats lost somewhere on one of the stools. Sips’ hand was firm against Lewis’ lower back, and the weight of it was comforting. It helped to ground him as he downed the rest of the beer and asked for another.

By the time they were through with the place, it was the pitch black early morning of the twenty-fourth. Lewis didn’t know how they managed, but they somehow got to his place. Sips found his bedroom and they fell back onto the mess of comforters and pillows, Lewis’ perfectly made nest uprooted.

His eyes kept trying to flutter closed over his rocking vision. After Sips adjusted himself to be pressed against his side, Lewis let them close. Sips was so warm next to him, like a heated blanket turned up as hot as it would go.

When the sun finally slotted in through the blinds, Lewis woke up to Sips staring at him.

“Merry Christmas,” Sips mumbled. A teasing smile curved his mouth.

And somehow it just felt natural waking up beside Sips, knowing that they were going to spend the day together.


	8. On The Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Sips and his boys.  
> Prompt: On the beach  
> Pairing: Sips/Ross/Alex/Trott ft. a clam  
> 

The weather was perfect in Málaga, Spain in December. Sips’ Christmas treat to his boys was a vacation to the city for about a week. The sites were plenty and the food fantastic, and the temperature just right the day that they decided to spend some time on Playa de la Caleta.

The beach was popular, but they had no trouble finding a spot to put their towels down. The winter sun was strong and there were no clouds nearby to cover it.

“Everyone line up,” Sips said. He held a large bottle of sunscreen in his hand and shook it. “Can’t have you pasty boys getting burnt.”

They kneeled in a row in the soft sand while Sips lathered the thick cream onto their shoulders and backs. Then he went to their fronts and hit their collarbones and faces.

When he was done he asked, “Now who’s gonna do me?” Three pairs of hands fought over the bottle before Sips had to break it up. “All of you can have a turn, jeez.” Sips stood still with his arms outstretched as he was coated liberally from head to toe.

Then Alex took off running towards the sea, Ross right behind him. Their calls were lost as they flopped into the water. Sips and Trott took their time walking through the heated dry sand that gradually turned damp and cool. They let the Alboran Sea rushed up to greet them and lick at their feet.

“Just think,” Sips said. He pointed out into the sea. “Right across this water is Africa.”

“You ever want to visit?” Trott asked.

“Perhaps Morocco or Egypt. You?”

“Nigeria wouldn’t be too bad I don’t think. They have a lot of wildlife reservations.” Trott walked a little farther, until the water was up to his knees. Sips stepped beside him.

“What about the boys? Where do they want to go?”

They looked out towards where Alex was skimming his arms along the top of the water, throwing the spray of it towards Ross. Ross retaliated by diving underneath, out of reach.

“I have no idea,” Trott said truthfully. “They mostly just talk about America, going back to California. I think they really liked it there.”

“Hmm.” Sips squinted his eyes at the sun. “America ain’t bad,” he said, then turned to look at Trott. “Maybe I’ll take you all to Canada. Show you where I grew up.”

Trott smiled. “As long as we go in the summer.”

“What, you don’t want to experience snow up to your ears? Come on, Trott, live a little.” Sips slung an arm around Trott’s shoulders and lead him farther into the sea. Alex and Ross noticed them and started to swim over. “Don’t you wanna stay in a cabin? Eat some moose steak and have sex in front of a fireplace on a bear skin rug?”

“What’s this about steak and sex?” Alex said as he let the waves push him to Sips’ feet. He looked up at the two.

“See, Smiffy is interested.” Sips crouched down and ran his hand through Alex’s wet hair. “He’s a good boy.”

Trott snorted and Alex laughed before he stuck out his tongue and pushed against the sand, the receding water pulling him away from Sips.

“A steak sounds amazing right now,” Ross said with a sigh. He sat close to Trott, water lapping at his chest.

“We should have eaten before we came,” Trott said.

“Then you all would have complained about getting a stomach ache,” Sips said. “You can’t eat before you swim, everybody knows that.”

“Isn’t that a myth?” Ross asked.

“I’m sure there’s a bit of truth to it,” Trott said. He stretched his arms up towards the sky. “Let’s at least spend a bit of time here before we go looking for food. Work up a real appetite.” He waded into the moving water towards Alex.

Sips stepped next Ross and rested a hand on his head. “Let’s not forget to take advantage of the seafood.”

Ross glanced up at Sips. “Aren’t you a vegetarian?”

Sips grinned, dark eyes catching the light. “Doesn’t hurt to indulge in a shrimp or two every once in a while.”

“I think that’s cheating,” Ross said with a laugh.

Sips winked. “Not if you don’t tell anyone.”

“Sips, Ross, get over here!” Alex called. “Trott found a clam.”

“Make like an otter and bust that bitch open,” Sips yelled back.

Ross followed him out to where Trott and Alex were, water up to their shoulders. Trott was holding up the palm sized clam to the sun. The shell was a dulled brown, the wet shine of it making it look almost like a stone. 

“How’d you manage to find that?” Ross asked.

“I stepped on it, and it didn’t feel like a rock.” Trott passed it over to Ross. “I wonder what they taste like. People eat them right?”

Alex made a disgusted face. “Don’t people only eat mussels? Clams are like, for fishing I think.”

“How could you forget clam chowder?” Sips asked. Ross tried to pry it open, but it was shut tight.

“Oh yeah,” Alex said. “I guess that’s a thing that exists.”

All four of them looked at the clam in Ross’ hands. Then Sips took it. He stared at it a moment before he drew back his arm and launched it as far as he could. It soared through the air and landed with a distant plop out a ways from them. 

Trott stood with a straightened hand to his forehead in a salute. “You will be missed.”

Alex put on a gruff voice. “Gone, but never forgotten.”

Ross played a sad mouth-trumpet war tune while everyone gave the clam a moment of silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip in peace


	9. In An Airport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: In an airport  
> Pairing: Alex/Trott  
> 

“It’s only for a week,” Trott tries to say, but his voice is muffled against the front of Alex’s puffy down jacket. He’s being held captive by the taller man, squished in a tight embrace.

Alex bows his head, chin resting on to the top of Trott’s. He tries to block out the mess of noise from the people around them and focus on this moment, to imprint it in his mind so that he has _something_ to keep him going while Trott is away. They are separated by multiple layers of clothing, and it’s just enough of an unsatisfying feeling that it makes Alex wish they had more time to say goodbye, to be able to sit with their sides touching and hands together, fingers fit just right.

But they had done all of that last night, had made _sure_ to spend hours being close. Trott had tried to escape several times, but Alex had always dragged him back to bed and latched onto him.

Finally, Alex loosens his grip and Trott moves away just enough so that they can see each other’s faces. Trott’s cheeks are pink, his bangs mussed. He shakes his head and the stray hairs fall into place.

“Did you hear me?” Trott asks.

Alex takes a breath, shoulders sagging when he releases it. “Yeah. A week.”

“I’ve been gone longer-”

“Not ever since we’ve been _together_ ,” Alex corrects.

Trott rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll survive. You’ve still got Ross.”

Alex huffs. He brings Trott into a hug again. “Ross is nice, but he isn’t small and squishy like you.” Alex doesn’t add that Ross isn’t quite as tolerable with him being touchy like Trott is.

Trott struggles. Alex lets his grip go slack, but his arms stay around Trott.

“I’ll be back before Christmas,” Trott promises.

“What if the flight gets delayed? Or-”

“Don’t start,” Trott says firmly. He pats Alex’s chest. “I’m sure you’ll text me _constantly_ , right?”  Alex nods, face serious. There’s an announcement for Trott’s flight. “I better go through security.”

“Do you have to?”

“Well, yes, that’s how these things work, Alex.” Trott smiles lightly. He lifts up on his toes and presses a quick kiss to Alex’s nose. “While I’d love to stand here with you all night, I have to get on the plane.”

Alex groans, but lets his arms fall. He stares at Trott until his eyes lose focus and he has to blink to bring back clarity. Somewhere a kid starts crying, and Alex thinks that there isn’t a more perfect sendoff.

“A week,” Trott repeats, as though it will make it any easier, as if by saying it over and over will speed up time. “Now give me a proper kiss so I can get going.” Trott tips his head up and waits.

Alex doesn’t hesitate to crush Trott to him once again, this time with much more force. He lets his lips fall to Trott’s, tries to put everything he’s got into it, but doesn’t know if it’s coming through. It’s just a simple press of skin, but Alex can still smell the coffee that Trott drank before they left home. He doesn’t close his eyes, and Trott’s own are darkened by the shadow of his face blocking out the harsh florescent lights.

There’s another call over the speaker for Trott’s flight. It’s going to be boarding in ten minutes.

Trott tips his head down, and Alex gives his forehead a kiss. Trott sighs. “Stop making this so hard.”

Alex grins. “I know what I can make-” He’s interrupted by a man bumping into him. The stranger apologizes and continues on, but Alex’s smile falls. He gives a very dramatic sigh and steps back from Trott. “There, you’re free.”

Trott smooths out Alex’s jacket front. “Don’t sound as if I’m leaving you forever.” Trott leans down and picks up his duffel bag. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get through security.”

“After security I’m getting in line to board the plane.”

“Then text me when you get on the plane.”

Trott laughs. “Goodness, has Alex Smith always been this protective?”

“I blame it on the holidays.” Alex shrugs, then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Go on then.”

“All right.” Trott lifts a hand. “A week’ll pass by before you know it.”

Alex nods once. “See you soon.” He tries to smile, but knows that Trott knows it’s full of heartache. Trott returns it, and it mirrors his own.

Alex stands still and watches Trott make his way to the security check. Trott gets through no problem, and then turns a corner and he’s gone from Alex’s sight. Alex fingers his phone in his pocket, itching to get it out, but he resists. Just a week, and it’s already started. He wonders if he should wait until he knows for sure that Trott’s plane has taken off, but the noises of the airport are finally coming through to him, loud and clear in the form of overly cheery Christmas music and he wants nothing more to leave the place, to let himself stew in his now sour mood.

As he’s going out the doors to the parking lot his phone vibrates. He takes it out. It’s a text from Trott. Alex feels a warmth spread through his chest as he opens the message.


	10. Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know what I’m doing pls forgive me.  
> Prompt: Dragons  
> Pairing: Ross/Alex as…friends.  
> 

Alex and Ross had been friends since they were old enough to walk. And once they were older, when it came time for them to pick their trade—either become craftsmen like their fathers or work for the royal army—they had chosen to become knights. Well, knights was the end goal. They had years of training ahead of them first.

It was the winter they had both turned sixteen. The week long festivities had just started, and their families were spending it together at the Hornby residence. It wasn’t a very large house, but Ross’ father had built it himself. It had an impressive two floors, one of the only buildings in the countryside town that did. The only downside was that it was quite cold on the upper level during winter. Alex had always wished his father was a carpenter, but his own was a mere blacksmith who was always hammering away at the forge behind their house.

“He’s someone to be proud of, your father,” Ross had told him one day. “He makes all kinds of useful things that the town needs. And when the king wants some new weapons, he even gets to make those! Plus, your guys’ name is perfect for it. It was meant to be.”

Alex had huffed at that. “I guess he’s really strong, but that’s it. He even told me that he wanted me to become a knight instead of learning the forge.”

“It’s all about money,” Ross had said, and he wasn’t wrong. “We’ll make much more, and then we can send some home.” His face fell somewhat. “I sort of did want to be a carpenter like my father… It’s been fun helping him work on houses and barns. And even if he doesn’t want me to, I’m still going to become a knight. We promised we’d do it together.”

Loud laughter jostled Alex from his thoughts. He was sitting at the worn table next to his sister with the rest of his family and Ross’. It had been a couple months ago since he had had that conversation with Ross. It felt like forever ago, though.

But very recently Ross had become more distant. He still talked to Alex, but they didn’t spend as much time together like they used to. Once winter was over they were expected to be at the castle, where they would stay in the barracks and learn all the skills they needed. Alex was looking forward to it, and he had thought Ross was too. But lately Ross seemed out of it. He was flighty, preoccupied even. He refused to go out with Alex in the dead of night anymore. He spent more time at home, helping his father.

Alex hoped Ross wasn’t going to change his mind. The thought of having to go off on his own to training was intimidating. He had always thought he’d be by Ross’ side forever.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” his sister asked him. “Usually you’re stuffing your face.”

“Where’s Ross?” Alex scanned the people seated at the table.

“He excused himself a while ago. He kinda looked sick.”

Alex lifted his leg over the low bench and stood. Several eyes watched him as he made his way to the stairs and up to the second floor to where Ross’ room was at the end of the hallway. The thick wooden door was shut.

He knocked on it. When there was no answer, he knocked again. “Ross?” he called. “Ross, it’s me.” Alex turned the handle and pushed it open.

Inside was dark and chilly. The window was open, letting in the freezing night air. Alex felt his way over towards the writing desk where a candle sat. He reached into his pocket and took out the firesteel he always carried. Once it was lit, the room came alive with jumping shadows and soft light. He went over to the window and shut it. He rubbed his hands together, wondering where Ross could have gone and why the window had been open. Maybe he had jumped out? But it was too far a jump to make safely, and there were no trees close by.

There was a scratching sound to his right, and Alex jumped. “Ross?” he called again. It was quiet. Alex went over to the small wardrobe where he knew Ross kept his clothes and some of his old toys. He opened it, wondering if Ross might be hiding inside, but he wasn’t.

Alex sighed. Maybe Ross was in some other room. He was about to leave when he heard what sounded like a snort. He spun around, eyes travelling across the room. He had adjusted to the low yellow lighting and could make out the few bigger pieces of furniture. The noise had sounded like it came from the far corner, where Ross’ bed was.

It hit Alex then. Ross had to be under the bed. There was definitely enough space under there for his friend to be hiding. Alex picked up the candle-holder and shuffled over to the bed. He lowered himself onto his hands and knees, then lowered the candle so that he could see.

“Ross, are you— _ah!_ ” 

Alex almost dropped the candle. His whole body started at the sight of two glowing blue eyes staring at him, eyes that were definitely not human. They blinked at him, and Alex’s heart beat wildly against his chest. He wanted to get up and run, but slowly the head of the creature was morphing into view. Alex stared, mouth slack, taking in the glistening scaly head, wide nostrils, and gleaming black nails set just underneath where the wide jaw rested.

“…Ross?” Alex tried again, though he believed it impossible that this _thing_ was Ross.

 _“Please, don’t tell my parents,”_ came Ross’ voice directly into Alex’s head, as though he had thought the words up himself.

“Is it really you?” Alex moved away from the bed as the beast moved towards him. Alex sat in disbelief as it crawled out from under the bed and seemed to unravel itself. Alex held up the candle, and his eyes went wide. “You’re a _dragon_?”

It stared at him, its long neck a graceful arch. Nowhere near as big as the rumors he had heard about, but this thing was still every bit as bizarre. The dark body was thin, like a serpent that had grown limbs, a pointed tail at the very end, and there were a pair of small bat-like wings folded its back. The head had the same shape as a horse’s, except where the ears were supposed to be were ridged, laid back horns. It was both exhilarating and slightly terrifying.

 _“I’ve been cursed,”_ Ross said plainly.

“Well, I can see that. What happened?” Alex reached out and felt the smooth bumps of Ross’ side. He was ice cold, and Alex thought he might get frostbite if he touched him for too long.

 _“A few weeks ago I went into the forest alone. I was looking for that mushroom that only grows for a few days before the first snowfall. I wanted to give it to my mother, a type of goodbye gift before we left for training. But I got terribly lost… You know how bad I am with directions._ ”

“You can barely make it to the next town over, and it’s a straight shot,” Alex said, not able to stop his smile.

_“Yeah. So I was lost, and didn’t really know what to do. I was talking to myself out loud, worrying that I’d never make it back before dark. And then this person appeared. I don’t really know if it was a girl, but they had long brown hair and big eyes. You should have seen their clothes! A black robe that was all torn up. They were holding some type of glowing red jewel.”_

Alex hummed. “A jewel? Do you think they were a witch or something? Although mother tells me there haven’t been any witches around here for years.”

Ross shrugged, or gave the best shrug he could in his current form, which was more like he was shifting his weight. _“It was some type of person who knew magic. I asked them for help, but they didn’t say anything. They held up the jewel, there was a flash, and then I was at the edge of the forest and could see the town. But then that night I was up late reading, and it felt like my bones were reforming themselves, it was so strange. Then I realized that I was turned into_ this _. It’s only happened a few times since then, though, and I never stay like this for very long.”_ Ross snorted, a loud sound that pushed a rough gust of air from his nostrils and almost blew out the candle. _“Sorry.”_

It was crazy, Alex thought. All very crazy. But also exciting. To think that there were still witches out there, preforming black magic and placing creepy curses on his friends. Alex suddenly felt a hot spike of anger. He hadn’t been there to protect Ross. If he had, he definitely wouldn’t have let that witch get away with doing weird things to his best friend.

With a newfound resolve, Alex stood and went over to remove the gleaming ornate sword from the wall where it was hanging above the dresser. It had been a gift from Alex when Ross had turned thirteen, courtesy of his father, though he had helped somewhat with the making of it.

 _“What are you going to do with that?”_ Ross tilted his head.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Alex asked. He tightened his grip on the heavy sword’s hilt. “I’m going to kill the witch.”


	11. Emergency Room Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A visit to the emergency room  
> Pairing: none; Ross, Trott, Alex ft. other office ppl and xmas decorations  
> 

“You’re the tallest,” Nina said. She pushed the large, glittery gold star into Ross’ hands. “Just grab a chair and set it on top of the tree, please.”

“We’re on stream in twenty minutes,” Ross said. “I need to be getting things set up with the guys.”

“Hush, it’ll only take a moment.”

Ross resisted letting out a sigh. Sometimes he hated being so tall. He was always being asked to hang pictures and pull mugs from the top shelf, especially by the shorter women of the office, but also by people like Trott. Constantly. It was a never ending cycle, and unlike Alex he never was able to say no and walk away, even if he tried to hint that he really didn’t want to help.

So he grabbed one of the swivel computer chairs that wasn’t being used and rolled it up close to the tree. Nina held onto the back of it for him while he stepped onto the seat. Ross held out his arms to steady himself and slowly raised up to his full height. His face was directly in line with the top of the tree. He turned the star in his hand and extended it towards the top.

“Barry, get back here with those donuts!” came Turps’ rough voice from down the hall.

Ross stopped just short of placing the star. His eyes slid over, through the open doorway they were currently blocking. Towards them Barry sprinted, his long legs carrying him quickly. In his hands was a box of donuts, and he was looking over his shoulder at Turps, who was trying to catch up to him.

He ran right into Nina, who was easily knocked over, and thus sent the chair, and Ross, spinning. Ross only made one rotation before he lost his balance and fell face first into the tree. The plastic branches failed to support his weight and the glass ornaments lost their grip. Ross brought the tree down with him with a loud thump, and he heard several crunches before he felt the sharp spikes of pain in various places over his body.

It had to be a mess, Ross knew, though he had closed his eyes in the fall and had yet to open them. He had hit his head against something, only lightly, but he still felt an instant headache coming on. He could hear people around the office getting up, the voices finally becoming clear to him.

“Shit, Nina, I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m fine, but I don’t think Ross is.”

“Barry, this is why we don’t _run in the office!_ ”

“What’s going on?” Trott’s voice.

“Why is the tree on the floor? Is someone under it?” Alex had joined the conversation.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Ross blinked his eyes open. His vision was somewhat obscured by the fallen Christmas tree that was half on him, but he could see some of Nina’s face.

“Someone help me stand the tree back up,” Turps said.

“Ross, are you all right?” Nina asked. She helped him sit up.

Trott crouched down next to him, a hand on his back. “He’s bleeding. You picked a good day to wear a white T-shirt, Ross.”

Nothing hurt worse than his left wrist. He had landed on his left side, and he remembered throwing out his hand as soon as the chair had started to spin. He cursed his reflexes, but knew none of it was his fault. Well, he shouldn’t have been standing on a swivel chair in the first place, but still.

He looked at the faces around him. He saw Barry off to the side, wide eyed with concern. Ross tried to give him a smile.

“I’m all right, no need to fuss over me.”

“Ross,” Trott said, “I don’t want to alarm you but you have bits of glass ornament wedged into your skin, and you’re bleeding.”

“You need to go to hospital,” Nina said sternly.

“But the stream-”

“It can wait,” Trott said before he gently secured an arm around Ross and helped him stand. “Smith, get our coats. Turps, can you find paper towels or something?” The two went off to retrieve the items. “Where are the places it hurts?” Trott asked.

“Um, mostly my wrist. I also have a headache.” Ross winced as Trott moved him towards the doorway. “I hope I don’t leave a trail of blood behind.”

“If you do, we’ll get Barry to mop it,” Nina huffed. She eyed Barry, who seemed to shrink under her gaze. “He’ll be helping me clean all this up while you get seen to.”

“Come on.” Trott ushered him along.

Turps met them in the hallway. He handed over a thick stack of paper towels, and Trott lifted Ross’ shirt to press them gently to his back. Alex arrived soon after with their winter coats and helped Ross into it.

“Should I drive?” Turps asked.

“Smith’ll do it. You can entertain the stream until we get back.”

“Will do. Drive safe, the roads are a bit slushy.”

In the car Trott sat with Ross in the back. Ross didn’t make any fuss about it, although he hoped that he wouldn’t bleed through onto his coat. He had just gotten it a month ago. He hunched forward so he wouldn’t be putting pressure on it. Ross flexed his fingers and wondered if he had broken his wrist. It hurt to turn it, so he kept it as straight as he could.

The hospital was close, and there wasn’t much traffic. They went directly to the emergency room. Trott and Alex sat with him and helped him fill out his information while he waited. It was sort of nice, having the two of them with. They knew how to keep calm in situations like these.

Finally he was called back and to his surprise, Alex and Trott came with him. Ross didn’t have the heart to tell them that they didn’t need to.

There was one lone bit of glass wedged into the skin of his back that they had to remove, then they bandaged him up. The x-ray of his wrist showed a small non-displaced fracture, which turned out to be a fancy way of saying he did indeed have a broken wrist, but it would only need a cast. The doctor told him he was quite healthy and would heal up relatively fast.

He picked out blue for the cast color, as per his usual. Then he let Trott and Alex take him back to the office. The Christmas tree had been cleared up, and the star he had been going to put on it was in place. Nina and a few of the other artists came over to look at the cast and instantly asked if they could sign it. Ross felt a little overwhelmed with so many people hovering about him, but he stood still until everyone had wished him well and went back to work.

Barry was hiding at his computer in the corner. Ross went over to him.

“Hey, mate,” Barry said, voice a bit high and stuttery. “You gonna be all right, then?”

“Yeah, doctor said it’ll heal fast. Good thing it was my left so I can still edit.”

Barry stared at the cast, then flicked his eyes up to Ross’ face. “I’m real sorry-”

“I know. It was an accident.” Ross offered a smile.

He was hesitant at first, but finally Barry said, “Do you think I could draw on it?”

Ross stuck out his injured arm. “Work your meme-magic.”


	12. Midnight Snacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Close enough.  
> Prompt: Midnight snacks  
> Pairing: Alex/Trott  
> 

Alex rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. A quick look at the glowing clock on the nightstand showed that it was a bit past midnight. He and Trott had went to bed early to try to catch up on lost sleep. It had been hectic at the office ever since December started.

Usually Alex would still be fast asleep, but his stomach had woken him. He knew it had been a bad idea to eat only three slices of pizza.

“Trott,” Alex said. He flung out his arm, and his hand smacked Trott in the face.

Trott snorted awake. “Wha?”

“I’m hungry,” Alex complained. “What do we have in the fridge?”

Trott groaned and gave Alex a kick. “Fuck if I know. Just go eat some cereal. Thanks for waking me up, twat.”

“I don’t want cereal. I’ll be hungry twenty minutes later.”

“Then starve,” Trott hissed. He threw the blanket over his head.

Alex pursed his lips. “Trotty,” he whined, “let’s get some McDonald’s.”

“If you want it then _you_ go get it,” came Trott’s muffled reply.

Alex tsked and grabbed onto the blankets. He pulled them from Trott, who growled and tried to get them back. Alex held them hostage.

“Just a quick run. It only takes, like, ten minutes to get there.”

“And you’ll want to sit there and stuff your face. I’m tired, and it’s freezing outside.” Trott yanked on the blankets, but Alex’s grip was stronger. “Alex Smith, stop being a piece of shit.”

“Chris Trott, _please_ just come with me to McDonald’s. You can get some chicken nuggets.”

“I’m not hungry,” Trott huffed. “Only you and your endless pit of a stomach are.”

“I bet you’ll be hungry once we get there,” Alex tried. He reached over and turned on the lamp, then put on his best pouty face. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

Trott glared at him, eyes extra squinted. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

“Well, it will be in a week.”

Trott sighed a very overdramatic sigh. “There isn’t any way I can get out of this, is there?”

Alex grinned. “Not really.”

“…Go warm up the car.”


	13. Someone Else’s Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first 12 prompts were all tame. Time to break out the smut (because anya told me to. Fuck you anya you piece of shit)  
> Prompt: Someone else’s wedding  
> Pairing: Trott/Ross  
> Rating: Explicit

It was a mutual friend of Trott and Ross. They hadn’t really been very close to him over the past couple years, but they were both still invited to his wedding. It was close by, so Trott set aside his weekend plans and demanded that Ross go with him. Ross was quick to give in, probably because Trott mentioned there was going to be a lot of free drinks. It was just the start of December, and even though they were both busy, Trott thought it wouldn’t hurt to go for the day.

They dressed their best and sat next to each other through the long church wedding. They could have just come for the reception, but decided they might as well show their support all out. It wasn’t too bad, and Trott was happy Alex wasn’t with. The man would have been fidgeting like crazy. Ross was much more behaved and only yawned a couple times.

Once it was finally over with, Ross and Trott followed the large crowd to the convention center room situated in a hotel where the reception was being held. There were a bunch of scattered tables and they picked one off to the side. Ross drummed his fingers on the table, the sound muted by the plum cloth overtop it.

“Is it okay to start drinking this early?” Ross asked.

“It looks like there’s someone at the bar,” Trott said, and he leaned forward to try to get a better look across the room. “We can go over and check.”

The person tending the bar served them without any hassle. Ross and Trott returned to their spot, little cups of beer in hand. Trott sipped at his and looked around the room. He honestly felt somewhat out of place among the slowing filling space. He didn’t know anyone but Ross and the groom, and only Ross was present at the moment. Trott let his eyes pass over Ross, taking in his gelled spikes, trimmed facial hair, how the knot of his black tie laid at the base of his throat. Trott had opted to go with a simple button down. He hated messing with ties.

And yet, the more he stared at Ross, the more he appreciated his friend’s outfit. The thin white shirt was pulled taut over his chest. The black pants he wore were form-fitting. Trott drained his cup of beer rather quickly.

“Want another?” he asked, and pointed at Ross’ half full cup.

“Sure.”

Trott went to get more, and this time returned with bottles instead of tap. “Much better,” he said, then twisted off the top. Ross smiled.

Hours later, they were many more drinks in and Trott was starting to feel like dancing due to the alcohol in his system. They had just finished eating and Trott was leaning into Ross’ shoulder, trying to quiet his laughter at a joke he had said, but it didn’t matter since everyone around them was so _loud_ , and the music was trying to overtake the conversation. It was very warm, and Trott saw the colorful lights on the designated dance floor spin and flash.

“Ross,” Trott said suddenly. “Let’s dance. Show me your moves.”

Ross had had a bit less to drink, but his skin was still reddened. He shook his head, and Trott frowned.

“I’m no good at dancing, you know that.”

“Liar,” Trott retorted. He tugged at Ross’ arm and got up close to his face. “You have sexy legs.”

“I don’t see the correlation,” Ross laughed.

“The _correlation_ is that you should show them off. By dancing.”

“Trott...”

“You need to drink more. I know for a fact that when you’re drunk you get wild.” Trott pushed his rum and coke to Ross. “Drink up, sunshine.”

Ross sighed, but he took the cup and drank from it. Trott told him to wait there and stumbled out of his seat to get more alcohol. It went on like that, and Trott could tell that Ross was gradually loosening up. He thought that maybe it was because it had been a while since they’d been out together, but Trott just wanted to spend time with Ross, outside an office setting, where there were no cameras around. Just the two of them, sitting close like they were.

From beneath his fringe Trott watched Ross’ throat bob as he swallowed. Trott’s leg bounced, and he chewed on the straw of his drink, thinking that dancing could wait until later. Ross had looked good before, but now he was somehow appetizing. The room was darker now, and the wedding party had finished with their speeches. Most of the people were up out of their seats, mingling about. All Trott could hear was the music, the thump of it steady in his ears.

He slid a hand onto Ross’ thigh and squeezed. It would have been innocent enough, but Trott kept moving his hand up. He stopped it at the seam of Ross’ dress pants and just let it rest there. He waited, watching Ross’ eyes flick right and left, but no one was around them, no one was watching them.

“Ross,” Trott said, voice strained as he yelled over the music. Ross looked at him. “Come on.” Trott forced himself out of the seat and grabbed Ross’ hand.

“I told you,” Ross shouted back, “I don’t want to dance.”

Trott shook his head, then pointed towards the doors. He pulled Ross along until they were into the much quieter, but much brighter hallway. Trott located the signs for the toilets and didn’t let Ross go as they made their way there, trying not to trip over their feet.

The room was a long corridor with plenty of stalls at the end. Grinning, Trott took them to the last one. He pushed Ross in rather roughly and locked the door behind himself.

“Trott, what are we-”

“Shh,” Trott interrupted. He lowered himself to his knees and looked up at Ross with a wide smile. “Don’t want someone to come in and hear.”

“Oh,” is all Ross managed.

Trott traced his hand over Ross’ crotch, palm kneading in rough circles, willing the cock underneath to harden. Trott was impatient. He worked at Ross’ belt with his free hand until it was undone, then untucked the shirt and traced his nails across Ross’ navel. He watched Ross suck his bottom lip into his mouth and bite it. The florescent light from above threw his face into shadow. The room was perfectly silent, and Trott began to hear his own breathing.

After he undid the button and zip, he shoved past Ross’ briefs and took him out. Trott worked the soft flesh in his hand until it thickened, the head reaching out to touch his lips. Trott licked at it, tongue wide and flat.

Ross was silent except for a quick draw of breath. He looked like some sort of businessman, or a husband, something Trott’s drunken mind tried to piece together as he stared up at Ross. It was mostly the tie that was doing it. Trott wanted more than just a sloppy bathroom blowjob, but neither of them had planned for this kind of thing, and Trott didn’t feel like going out into the cold to buy lube from a corner shop.

He stuffed Ross’ cock into his mouth, saliva slipping past his lips and sliding down the side of it. There was a low rumbling sound from Ross, and it spurred Trott on. He brought his head down as far as he could until he almost gagged, then pulled off almost completely. It was hard to concentrate when it felt like he was being rocked side to side.

Ross tangled fingers into his hair and helped guide Trott back down. The motions were smoother, and Trott hummed. He liked the heady taste of precome on his tongue, the way his jaw was already starting to ache. He just had to stay put while Ross pushed into his mouth. It didn’t require much thought, and Trott sucked hard on every breath in he took. Soon enough Ross was trying to quiet his panting with a hand over his mouth.

Trott didn’t know why he bothered. No one had come in. Trott was just going to mention this when he heard the sound of the door. Ross’ hips stilled, but Trott kept at it. Now he was determined to see if he could finish Ross off before the person left. He had a couple minutes max.

Trott let just the head rest in his mouth and massaged his tongue along the ridges, knowing the spots that would make Ross lose it. He could tell the man was struggling when the hand in his hair tightened considerably.

There was no warning when Ross came. It hit the back of Trott’s throat and he tried not to cough. The rest fell onto his tongue and he swallowed it down until there was no evidence left. He let Ross’ cock out of his mouth, and then crawled under the divider into the next stall. Here he stood, wiped his mouth, then flushed the toilet. He took a breath, then walked out into the open space.

It was the groom himself at the urinals. Trott didn’t hesitate in going right up to him, giving his back a solid pat. The man jumped in surprise, but was ultimately pleased to see Trott, and apologized for not having been able to talk to him all night.

Trott continued the conversation, wondering when Ross was going to show himself. When the groom was washing his hands, Ross opted to come out of the stall, all smiles.

He wasn’t bothered by it now, but Trott was sure he’d be embarrassed later, after the alcohol had worn off.


	14. Breaking and Entering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Breaking and entering  
> Pairing: none; Ross, Alex, Trott  
> 

“Hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here,” Alex hissed, his words turned clouds of white.

In front of him, Ross messed with the doorknob. “I’m working as fast as I can,” Ross whispered. “It doesn’t help that my bloody hands are like ice.”

“Why’d you take off your gloves?”

“Because I can’t exactly pick a lock with mittens on, now can I?”

Alex rolled his eyes. He was shivering something fierce, teeth chattering. He shifted the bag he was carrying. Inside was a neatly wrapped box.

“Almost got it,” Ross said. With one more quick jiggle the latch came free. “We’re in.”

Alex pushed at Ross, and they shuffled in through the back door into Trott’s house. It was dark, and they had to feel along the walls until they finally made it to the living room where the Christmas tree was. It glowed a cheerful multicolor and there were a few presents underneath it.

Alex removed the box from the bag and set it among the other gifts. It was by far the largest.

“Let’s go. You said you didn’t know when Trott would be back, yeah?” Ross rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them.

“It’s fine,” Alex assured. “He said he’d be busy tonight. Had some party to go to. I doubt he’d come back before midnight.” Alex stepped around Ross and went into the kitchen. There he flicked on the light above the stove. Sitting on the counter next to the fridge was a container.

He knew they were cookies. Alex popped open the lid and grinned when he saw the gingerbread men, neatly decorated with icing. He picked one up and turned. Ross stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised.

“Santa deserves a reward,” Alex said, then bit the head off the cookie.

Ross shrugged. Alex pointed at the container but Ross declined. Alex opened his mouth, ready to stuff the rest of the cookie in so that they could head out.

There was a cough that didn’t come from either of them. Ross started, and Alex almost choked.

“What you guys did was illegal, you do know that, right?” Trott came into the light next to Ross, hands on his hips. His hair was ruffled and he was in his sleep clothes.

“Trotty,” Alex croaked, trying to swallow the little pieces of cookie that had went down the wrong pipe. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, this _is_ my house.” Trott crossed his arms. “What are _you_ _two_ doing here?”

Alex shoved the rest of the gingerbread into his mouth. Around it, he said, “I knew I should have worn the hat. We’re playing Santa.”

“We did come with that intention,” Ross explained. “It was Alex’s idea to look for snacks.”

“I bet it was.” Trott went over to the container next to Alex and snapped the lid back on it. “So, you left me a present?”

“Yup! You’re going to love it.” Alex pulled Trott into a rough sidearm hug. “Only the best for our Trott.”

Ross smiled and gave a nod.

“I believe you,” Trott said, “but couldn’t you have taken off your boots before coming in? Now there’s melting snow all over the floor.”

Alex let Trott go and slowly backed himself towards the front door. “Santa doesn’t do the cleaning.”

Ross followed Alex. “Neither does Santa’s helper.”

“Boys,” Trott warned. “Don’t think you can get away with breaking into my house and then leave a mess behind.” He stepped through the wet puddles and grabbed onto the front of his friends’ coats. “You know where the towels are. Get to it.”

Alex and Ross exchanged a look, sighed, and then slowly crouched to untie their boots.


	15. Olympics/Sports

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri on Ice inspired this (pls watch it, it’s such a precious anime)  
> Prompt: Olympics/sports  
> Pairing: none; Trott, Ross, Alex  
> 

“What’re you guys talking about?” Alex asked. He sat down at his desk and unscrewed the cap of the water bottle he had just grabbed from the break room.

Trott and Ross exchanged a look. “Ice skating,” Trott said. He raised an eyebrow at Alex. “Know anything about it?”

Alex snorted. “Not really. Never been high on my list of things to do.”

“So you’ve never been?” Ross questioned.

Trott relaxed back into his chair, arms folded. “Something Alex has never done before. This is a momentous occasion.”

Alex clicked his tongue. It annoyed him when Trott made assumptions. Who cared if he was right? “I never said I haven’t been.”

“Oh?” Trott grinned. “It sure seemed like you implied it.”

Alex scratched at his beard and tried to make it look like he was focused on the computer. “Whatever you say, Trotty-san.”

“So is that a yes or a no?” Ross asked.

“Pretty sure it’s a no,” Trott said. Alex watched him turn in his chair towards Ross. “As I was saying before, you want to go tomorrow? The outdoor rink just opened. It’s finally cold enough.”

“It’d be fun.” Ross gave a smile.

Alex squinted at them from over the barrier. He wondered if they were going to purposely disclude him. Although, it’s not like he should assume he’d be invited. The three of them didn’t always get together outside the office. In fact, it was becoming rarer for them to. They spent five long days with each other; it was nice to have a couple days break over the weekend. But Alex felt a small clench in his chest at the thought of Trott and Ross having an afternoon together without him.

He didn’t notice he was spacing out until Trott was standing next to him, a hand on his desk, fingers tapping. Alex blinked and looked up.

“You want to go with? We can teach you.” Trott sounded sincere.

“You don’t need to teach me,” Alex said, skirting around the truth of the matter. He quickly changed directions. “And how long have you been skating for anway?”

Trott grinned. “Years, mate. My parents made me do _all_ the sports. Also Ross and I used to go quite a bit in uni since there was a rink right next to our dorm.”

Ross stood and came over. He rested his arms on the barrier. “You should see Trott on the ice. He’s majestic.”

“You’re too sweet,” Trott said, and batted at Ross’ shoulder.

“All right, fine, I’ll go.” Alex tried not to sigh. “When?”

“Tomorrow at noon,” Trott said. “Oh, and don’t wear jeans.”

\--

The outdoor rink wasn’t busy, and Alex was glad for it. He showed up ten minutes late. Ross and Trott were already on the ice, so Alex stood on the side and watched them. Ross had been right; Trott _did_ look majestic. He didn’t perform any special spins or tricks, but he seemed to float on the ice. They’d all been roller-skating before, but this was a bit different. There was grace to Trott’s circles around the rink. Often he met up with Ross and the two skated side by side for a while before they broke off. Alex hardly noticed the cold weather slowly sinking into him.

Ross saw him and skated over. “Hey,” he said. “Did you check out a pair of skates?”

Alex held them up and Ross nodded before he pushed away from the wall and was off again. Alex found a bench and sat down. He removed his boots and stuffed his feet into the skates. Once he had tied them securely, he slowly stood up.

He almost fell down, the feeling was so strange. Alex felt his face heat in embarrassment as he forced himself to stand properly. His legs wobbled as though they were limp spaghetti and he threw a glance into the rink, praying that Ross and Trott weren’t watching. Thankfully they weren’t. Alex gingerly stepped one foot forward. He felt his weight shift and threw out an arm to balance himself. All of his muscles strained and he felt so much heavier than before. If it was this hard now, just how difficult would it be on the actual ice? Trott and Ross made it look so _easy_.

Slowly, with much caution, Alex hobbled to the side of the rink. He gripped the top of the low wall and tried to even his breathing. Trott and Ross skated by, their bodies a blur of dark colors. Alex told himself that he could do this, that it had to be like rollerblading. He wasn’t clumsy; he thought himself very good at maneuvering around. Years of playing airsoft and paintball had taught him how to be more agile. But this was quite different. It was a whole new strange experience.

Alex felt like a newborn fawn as he stepped onto the ice. He tried desperately to hold himself up while his legs quaked with the strain. His body was stiff, and he feared that if he let go of the side wall he’d fall instantly. It was a shameful feeling. He wanted to retreat back to the outside, rip off the skates, and go home. Alex felt a lump in his throat forming as Ross and Trott came towards him.

“I lied,” Alex said, voice strained. “I’ve never done this shit before.”

“We know,” Trott said, and it was soft. It didn’t have any of the teasing tones that Alex expected it to.

Ross held out his arm. “Take it. We’ll hold you up.”

Alex hesitated. He looked around the rink again, but there were only a few other people who weren’t even paying attention to them. Alex reached out and took a tight hold of Ross’ arm. Trott went to his other side and lifted a gloved hand. Alex took it.

He suddenly felt more stable. His legs still tensed, but he knew he wouldn’t fall.

“You need to relax,” Trott said. “Bend your knees. Once you find your balance it will be a lot more comfortable.”

Alex nodded and did as Trott instructed. It helped, and he allowed himself to be pulled along as Trott and Ross moved forward gradually. They were in no rush, and Alex appreciated it. He was desperate to learn quickly so that he could impress them.

“That’s it, sunshine.” Trott gave him a warm smile. “Lean forward a bit and keep moving.”

“You’re doing better than when I first started,” Ross said.

Alex said nothing, too concentrated on getting it right. They stayed close to the edge and managed to make it all the way around the rink without falling. Alex felt a boost of confidence. He wasn’t as shaky as before, and he was starting to understand how the ice gripped the blades of the skates. Trott and Ross took him around again, faster this time, and Alex was elated. The skates were so smooth. It had him wishing he could do all sorts of impressive tricks.

They came to a stop. “Want to try on your own?” Trott asked.

“I should,” Alex said. He released his friends and stood still, letting his body remain loose.

Ross and Trott stayed at his sides. Alex leaned his weight onto one foot and pushed off. He moved forward, and so he leaned the other way and did the same. He kept his arms straight out, and Ross and Trott gave him space. He was supporting himself his own, and he couldn’t keep the wide grin from his lips.

“I’m doing it,” Alex said, surprised at his own accomplishment. He turned his head to the side, trying to locate Trott or Ross. “Guys, I’m-”

Alex felt the world tilt as he fell backwards. It happened so fast it took him a moment to realize he was sitting on the ice. Ross and Trott appeared in his line of vision, faces full of concern. Alex stared at them for a moment. Then he laughed, and took the hands that were offered. They helped him up.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Alex said. He was a bit embarrassed by the fall, but it didn’t dampen his spirit.

“You’ll have it mastered in no time,” Ross said.

“If there’s any quality Alex has more of than another, it’s determination,” Trott agreed.

Alex let Trott and Ross pull him as they lapped the rink, and there was a brief moment where he felt like he was soaring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve never been ice skating. I think I’d end up killing myself if I tried.


	16. Waking Up In A Foreign City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in the same universe as ‘Hotel Coffee’ set after the final chapter. But I wouldn’t say you need to remember/have read that fic in order to read this.  
> Prompt: Waking up in a foreign city  
> Pairing: Sips/Ross  
> Rating: Explicit

Ross slowly awoke, and he felt the press of a warm body against his back. The room was dark and he didn’t know what time it was—the clock was on the other nightstand. He could hear the light hum of the heater in the corner and somewhere close by was the muffled sound of a dog barking. Ross made to sit up, but the arm around his chest tightened and kept him in place.

He let out a breath. “You’re awake?” he asked, voice rough with sleep.

Chris gave a low hum in response. Ross relaxed into him, thinking about how they had been out most of the night before at a geisha house. It had been amazing even though Ross didn’t understand Japanese. He had drank quite a bit of sake, but he felt all right.

“What time is it?”

“Dunno,” Chris answered.

Ross wondered how long they were going to stay in Morioka. Chris had said something about wanting to see a mountain the other day, but they had yet to do much adventuring. It had been abrupt, this Christmas vacation to Japan. Chris had given him little warning. One minute Ross had been planning to spend the holiday with Alex and his boyfriend Trott, and the next he’d been getting on a plane.

But he knew that he couldn’t complain because it had been months since he’d seen Chris, months since they had last been together in Vegas. Still, Ross felt a little guilty allowing Chris to spend so much money on him. Chris had even rented out the apartment space they were currently in. It wasn’t huge, but it was probably expensive. Chris refused to tell him the price.

“What’re you thinking about?” Chris asked with a yawn.

Ross’ eyes were almost adjusted to the dark, but he closed them. “Definitely not your dick against my ass.” It was said quietly, and Ross felt his face heat at the words. It was still odd to hear them out loud when he was so used to texting them.

“What can I say? It’s happy to see you.” Chris slid his hand down Ross’ chest until it teased at the waistband of his boxers. “It _has_ been a while.”

He already knew that. It was difficult for both of them, but Ross wasn’t ready to become some kind of stay at home wife for Chris. The thought made Ross want to laugh, although… it wasn’t too bad a thought. He did wish he was able to see Chris more often. If he had gotten one good thing out of this relationship it had to be his drastically improved sexting skills.

“Let me guess, you brought lube?” Ross bit his lip as he felt Chris’ hand dip into his boxers and palm at his stiffening cock.

“Nope,” Chris said. “But I did buy some when we got here.”

Ross found himself smiling. He wanted to turn around and kiss Chris, but the hand on him kept him as he was.

“And I bet you put it in a reachable place,” Ross muttered, giving his legs a stretch and pushing back into Chris.

“You know me so well.” Chris rubbed his forehead into Ross’ hair. He curled his hand into a fist around Ross’ cock and rolled his hips. The small bed moved with him, and Ross wondered how thin the walls were. They weren’t like the paper ones he had seen on several buildings, but he doubted that they would block out much noise.

It didn’t bode well for him and his inability to stay silent when Chris fucked him, but he’d have to try.

Ross was gradually becoming undone by Chris’ hand and trying to think of ways to keep himself quiet when Chris put much more weight against him. Ross was pushed into the mattress as Chris rutted into him, heavy breaths against his neck. Ross shivered, although underneath the blanket was warm. He was still a bit tired, and there was something satisfying in just lying there, having Chris do everything.

But the feeling dissolved as Chris let him go and moved away, and Ross heard the drawer of the night stand open. He rolled over in time to hear Chris snapping open the cap of the lube. He could see the outline of Chris as the man turned to him. There was a hand under his chin, holding his face steady and then he was being kissed. It was brief, and Ross felt Chris pull at the blankets, and then at his boxers. They came off, and he was left in his shirt. Not that he minded much, although he wasn’t as warm anymore.

Chris worked him open, and Ross kept his mouth firmly closed, swallowing down any cries that bubbled in his throat. The feel of Chris’ firm fingers inside him brought back memories of months ago. He wondered when they were going to do it somewhere besides a bed. Not that he minded, but he didn’t think that Chris would always want to stay so vanilla.

“Ready?” Chris’ voice was low and gentle, and Ross wanted to turn on a light so that he could see the dark eyes above him.

But he only said yes and waited. Chris lifted his legs and pressed in close, the heat coming off him comforting. Ross reached his arms up and found Chris’ back. He held on while Chris gave the first few thrusts in.

“Shit, I missed this.” Chris paused a moment, then sighed. “I missed _you_.”

Ross nodded, forgetting that Chris couldn’t see it. There were lips at his own again, and this time they stayed for longer, tongue dipping into his mouth and it made Ross’ heart ache, but in a good way, a pleasant way. Having Chris against him like this was a sort of home coming, despite being in a foreign country.

The bed moved with every thrust Chris gave, and Ross was thankful there was no headboard. When Chris stopped kissing him, he had to secure a hand over his mouth to stop his moans from being anything more than muffled. But his whines slipped through his fingers, not able to be contained as Chris snapped his hips forward, each time a little harder until Ross was struggling to get in enough air.

Chris grabbed his hand and wrenched it from his mouth, and Ross panted loudly. “Maybe I should get you a ball gag, since you insist on trying to keep quiet,” Chris said, and Ross groaned.

He didn’t know if he wanted that or not, but it was hard to think with Chris’ slick cock bringing him quickly to the edge. When Chris wrapped a hand around him and pressed a thumb against the head, Ross voiced his released, felt it fall onto his stomach in short bursts.

Chris didn’t stop until Ross was digging his fingers into Chris’ back. Then he pulled out and Ross listened to his harsh breathing quicken, then melt into a long groan as Chris came, some of it falling to mix with his own.

Ross was kissed once more before Chris sat back. It was quiet, and Ross thought that he was going to fall back asleep.

“Come on, up,” Chris said, and he gave Ross’ leg a smack. “Let’s go see some mountains.”

Ross turned his head and was able to see the clock. It was five a.m.


	17. Drinking In A Mediocre Restaurant Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My American is clearly showing in this fic and im sorry if im basic but I really like olive garden okay?!  
> Prompt: Drinking in a mediocre restaurant bar  
> Pairing: none; Alex, Trott, Ross  
> 

They all knew of the breadstick meme, and since they were visiting America, Alex wanted to see just how good these meme-breadsticks from Olive Garden tasted. None of them were actually hungry—they had already eaten an hour ago, but Alex really wanted some garlicy bread and for some reason Ross wanted wine and Trott just wanted both of them to shut the fuck up since he was still jet lagged.

But they located the closest Olive Garden (a twenty five minute taxi ride from their hotel) and went, because it was a Wednesday night a couple days before Christmas so why the hell not?

Inside held a welcoming warmth that carried the smell of pasta and olive oil. They went directly to the deserted bar and sat three in a row on the stools after taking off their coats. The bartender was a plain looking guy who didn’t appear very enthused that they had shown up. Yet he smiled and asked what he could get them.

“What wine do you recommend?” Ross asked. “Is there a Rosé?”

As the bartender rattled off a list of different wines, Alex leaned into Trott, about to say some witty line about dicks, but a waitress came over and asked if they needed any menus.

“We’re just gonna get an order of breadsticks,” Alex told her, and she went off to get them. Alex grinned and turned to Trott, who was trying to keep himself awake by playing Tetris on his phone. “You want to try them? I don’t think I’ll be able to eat them all by myself.”

Trott snorted. “I’m sure you could if you tried.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex touched his chest, a hurt look coming onto his face, but Trott knew it was false. “Are you calling me fat?”

Trott set down his phone and poked at Alex’s stomach. “I don’t need to call you anything. _This_ speaks for itself.”

Alex slapped his hand away and pouted. “I’m beautiful just the way I am.”

“Guys, I bought this entire bottle of wine so you’re helping me drink it,” Ross said. The bartender set the large bottle on the bar in front of them along with three glasses. “It’s supposed to be ‘fruity and sweet.’”

Trott didn’t ask how much it cost because he had a feeling it was overpriced. But he took the full glass offered and sipped it. “Not bad.” It wasn’t his favorite.

Ross sniffed at it, made a face, then tasted it. Alex and Trott waited for him to comment. The bartender went off somewhere, leaving them alone. “It’s… not worth what I spent, but I’m still going to drink it.”

“Let me have a go,” Alex said. He picked up his glass and took a swallow. “Eh, we’ve had better, but it’ll do.”

“What do you mean ‘it’ll do’? And hour ago you specifically said you didn’t want to drink because we have to get up early.” Trott’s glass clinked as he set it back down.

“Yeah, I lied. It happens from time to time, Trott, no need to get your panties in a twist over it.” Alex drained the glass and poured himself some more.

“I’m not-” Trott stopped as the waitress came back with a covered basket. She set it in front of Alex.

Alex zeroed in on the breadsticks. He pulled back the napkin that was folded over top them and put his face up close. Like Ross, he gave them a sniff. He hummed, pleased. Trott crossed his arms. Alex picked up one of the pale sticks and stared at Trott as he shoved the end into his mouth. He bit into the soft bread and chewed slowly. Ross and Trott saw his eyes roll back and mouth go slack.

“You okay?” Ross asked.

“Fucking hell these are so good.” Alex pushed the basket across the bar and it almost knocked over Trott’s glass. “Try one. Now.”

Ross grabbed one and stuffed it into his mouth. “It’s so salty,” he tried to say, but it was muffled around the wad of bread.

Trott frowned. “Please don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

Alex set a hand on Trott’s shoulder and picked up another breadstick. He held it up to Trott’s lips. “Come on, Trotty, open the tunnel for the breadstick train.”

“Fuck off, I can feed myself.” Trott plucked the breadstick from Alex’s hand. He took a small bite out of it and ate it like a civilized human being. “It’s all right,” Trott confirmed. He didn’t think it was anything special. Like Ross had said, it was very salty.

“It’s more than all right,” Alex said. He took another and held it vertically. He stuck his tongue out and licked it from bottom to top.

“That’s disgusting,” Trott said, and looked away to watch Ross refill their glasses.

“It’s so salty and delicious,” Alex sighed.

“No wonder you like it,” Ross laughed.

“Way to bring up a dead joke,” Alex said, before he chomped into the bread.

Ross shrugged and drank more wine. Trott stared at the breadstick he held while Alex chewed on his loudly. Alex’s hand was still on his shoulder, and Trott didn’t know what was more annoying; the overly warm hand or Alex’s eating noises.

The bartender came back, and he looked surprised that the bottle of wine was halfway gone. He told Ross that there were two other Rosés. Before Trott was able to stop him, Ross bought them both.

“Can we get more breadsticks?” Alex asked. He licked the garlic salt from his lips and picked up the last one from the basket. The bartender nodded and went to get more.

“I don’t know how you’re hungry,” Trott said with a sigh. He set his half eaten stick on the bar.

“Trott, I’m always hungry.”

“Maybe he has a tapeworm,” Ross said. “Guys, drink more of this wine, I can’t possibly finish all this on my own.”

Trott pushed Alex’s hand from his shoulder. “Then why did you buy two more bottles?!”

“I… don’t really know. That bartender is a good seller.” Ross swirled the liquid in his glass and took a sip. “This new one is actually better than the other. Try it.”

“Pour me some.” Alex pushed his glass towards Ross, and once again Trott’s own glass was almost knocked over in the process.

“Sometimes you two drive me really fucking mad,” Trott said under his breath. He opened his phone back up and tried very hard to distract himself with a game of Best Fiends.

Alex leaned over the bar and propped his elbows on it. “I can’t believe these are actually that good. What am I gonna do when we get back home? How will I live without these in my life?”

“Suffer, I guess,” Trott said.

“Ross, give Trott more wine.”

“You got it.” Ross filled his glass all the way to the top and it almost spilled over. “Oopsie.”

“Oopsie is fucking right,” Trott grumbled. He had to slurp it, which was very unflattering and reminded him of drunk white college girls and of course the bartender came back at just that time with the breadsticks and shot a weird look at Trott.

“Thanks, man,” Alex said and slide the first fresh breadstick out from under its cover. He licked at it again, this time much slower.

Trott swore that he heard Alex moan, but he couldn’t hear well over the click of glasses as the bartender put some away.

Ross pressed his hands to his flushed face, trying to cool himself off. “I might step outside for a second,” he said.

“Why?” Alex asked, mouth full.

Trott’s grip on his phone tightened.

“Don’t you think it’s warm in here?”

“Not really,” Trott said.

“I think they turned up the heat.” Ross cleared his throat, then raised his glass to his lips, letting the liquid slip past them.

“What about, oh, I don’t know,” Trott said, “all that wine you’re consuming?”

“What about it?” Ross asked. He motioned at Trott’s own full glass. “Drink up, Trott, there’s more where that came from.”

“I _know_ there is! Because you bought _two_ more bottles of it!”

“Trott, eat another fuckin’ breadstick and settle down.” Alex pushed the warm bread right into Trott’s slightly parted mouth.

Trott reached up and snatched the breadstick. He threw it onto the bar, and Alex raised an eyebrow. Ross shook his head and took another gulp of wine.

“I don’t want to eat any more of these fucking shitty breadsticks,” Trott said, voice gone slightly higher.

The bartender stood off to the side, just staring at them.

Alex spun on his stool and knocked his legs into Trott’s. He picked up the sad breadstick that Trott had rejected and somehow shoved all of it into his own mouth. He leaned close to Trott and chewed loudly, making all kinds of wet, pleased noises.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Trott growled. “Fucking _stop_ it.” He turned his back to Alex and focused on Ross, who had the dopiest smile on his face and was holding his half full glass of wine with an elbow on the bar.

Ross slowly extended the glass towards Trott. Trott had to hold up his hand to stop its approach. He could still hear Alex behind him, trying to choke down the bread in his mouth.

“You two are _insufferable._ I have no idea why I’m friends with you.”

“Trott, that’s really hurtful,” Ross said, but he kept smiling. “I think you need to drink some more wine.”

“ _I think_ it’s time to go.” Trott took out his credit card and slammed it on the bar. He looked at the bartender with a glare, and the man tentatively took it without a word.

“Alex,” Trott said. “You better shove as many of those breadsticks into your giant mouth as you can because we’re not taking them with us.”

“But Trott-”

“No.” Trott turned to look at Ross. “And you better chug the rest of that bottle because it’s not allowed to come with now that you opened it.”

Ross’ smile dropped. “But that’s a lot of wine-”

“Suck it up, sunshine. Also, you’re both paying me back later.”

Trott turned his head in time to see Alex attempt to shove the breadsticks into his jean pockets, and he let out a very loud and exasperated groan. “Alex, _no_.”

“What?” Alex tried to force the now squished bread in harder. “I’m sure I can get a few to fit.” Trott grabbed Alex’s salty hands and the bread fell to the floor. “Don’t _waste_ food like that!”

Trott’s card was set down and he collected it. Then he picked up the unopened bottle of wine and stood. “Put your coats on, we’re leaving.”

Ross struggled with his and Alex grumbled the entire time. Trott said a quick sorry to the bartender as he ushered his two friends out, bottle of Rosé in tow.

The cold December air hit them in a gust as soon as they stepped outside. Trott stood off to the side and called them a cab, all the while eyeing Ross and Alex with a very annoyed look.

“It’s so nice out here,” Ross sighed.

Alex stretched, then burped. He smacked his chest. “I don’t feel all too good. I blame it on Trott.”

“Yeah,” Ross agreed. “Trott, it’s your fault, you bish.”  

“Thank fuck we don’t have one of these in Bristol,” Trott muttered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... don’t even know what this is it just kinda happened


	18. Making Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to write all the dialogue forever.  
> Prompt: Making food  
> Pairing: none; Trott, Ross, Alex  
> 

Ross stomped his feet on the steps leading up to the porch, making sure to get as much snow off of them as he could. He opened the door and went inside where he set the shovel down next to the bag of salt they used when it got icy out. He went into the house and was met by a puff of warm air that smelled of sugar and vanilla. Ross pulled off his hat, face feeling extra hot, and he was sure his cheeks were bright red. He stooped to undo his boots and removed them, leaving them next to the door. He made his way to the kitchen, stripping off his gloves and coat along the way.

Trott had his back to him, busy with something. Ross came up behind him and looked over his shoulder.

“Melted chocolate?” Ross asked as he watched Trott slowly stir a bowl of smooth white chocolate.

“For the pretzels,” Trott said. “You want to start rolling out the sugar cookie dough? It should be done chilling in the fridge.”

Ross washed his hands before he removed the dough and set it next to Trott. He opened the flour and sprinkled some onto the counter. Then he set the ball of dough in the middle of it and searched through the cupboards for a rolling pin.

He heard the front door open and soon enough Alex joined them in the kitchen, a plastic bag in his hand.

“Here’s the strawberries.” Alex placed the two containers on Trott’s other side. “And the whipped cream.”

“What’s that for?” Ross raised an eyebrow. “Experimenting in the bedroom tonight?”

Trott laughed. “You wish.” He dropped several pretzels into the bowl of melted chocolate. “It’s for the trifle.”

“Ahh, I see.” Ross floured the rolling pan before he went to work.

Alex reached into the bag of pretzels and took a few. “This seems like a lot of desserts for one little office party,” he said, then tossed the pretzels into his mouth.

“Everyone said they were going to be there, so I wouldn’t call it little.” Trott nudged Alex aside. “Wait until _after_ I’m done. I want to be sure I have enough.”

“Trott, you’ll definitely have enough. There are like, a thousand pretzels in a bag.”

Trott clicked his tongue. “You can make yourself useful by washing the strawberries and taking off the tops.”

Alex shrugged and picked up the strawberries, taking them over to the sink.

“How do you plan on decorating these?” Ross gave the dough one last roll over. “Just going to ice them?”

“Silly Ross, you can’t just ice sugar cookies. You have to at least put sprinkles on them.” Trott pointed at the cupboard above Ross’ head. “The cookie cutters are in there. You’ll have to sort through them though, I just have one bag for all the holidays.”

Ross retrieved it and dumped it out. There were hearts and rabbits among the gingerbread men and santas. Ross picked out all the Christmas related ones he could see, then started to line them along the top of the dough.

“Want me to cut these up?” Alex asked.

“Just in half, if you want.”

Ross hummed as he pressed the cutters in. The feel of the dough giving way underneath the metal was satisfying. He carefully removed them and replaced them on the rest of the dough until all of it was cut out.

Trott said, “The oven is already on. The shortcake is just about done, so throw those in whenever.” Ross neatly laid the dough cutouts on the cookie sheet and slid it into the oven. “Want to decorate these before they dry?” Trott motioned at the freshly dipped pretzels.

From the sink, Alex huffed. “How come Ross gets to do all the fun bits and I’m stuck cutting up fruit?”

“Then get over here and sprinkle away.” Trott pushed the assorted sprinkles across the counter. “Just don’t go crazy. Some people don’t like sprinkles.”

“A real shame, that is,” Alex said with a grin. “Ross, scoot over.”

Ross made room for Alex and they both began to cover the pretzels in a wide variety of sprinkles. Almost all were red and green, but there were some blue ones that were snowmen and other festive shapes.

Ross stealthily unscrewed the cap on the sprinkle shaker for the red sanding sugar. He set it back down, directly in front of Alex.

Trott went to the oven, probably to take out the shortcake.

Ross pointed at the pretzels. “I think we need more red. There’s a lot of green.”

“How can you tell with that dog vision of yours?” Alex lightly shook out the blue snowflake quins.

“I can see red and green just fine, thank you.” Ross pointed at a pretzel that Alex had coated in green nonpareils. “See? Too much green.”

“And you have _too much_ red.”

“Then let’s make it even. I’ll add more green and you add more red.”

Alex groaned. “Jesus, fine.” He picked up the open shaker for the red sanding sugar. Ross bit his lip and watched as Alex turned it on its side and gave it a shake. The cap fell off and out came half the container of sugar.

Ross tried to unsuccessfully stifle his laughter while Alex swore.

Oven mitts still on, Trott stepped next to Alex. “Smith, what did I say about making a mess?”

“It was Ross! He must have undid the cap.” Alex stared down at the heap of sugar.

“Don’t blame Ross. You probably shook it too hard.”

“I did not,” Alex pouted.

“Well whoever did it, get it cleaned up. Also, you’re eating the pretzels that you ruined.”

Alex squinted at Ross, who had started to whistle as he resumed decorating. “I’ll get you back,” Alex muttered.

“Go ahead and try,” Ross whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to bake all the xmas treats.


	19. Spies/Espionage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I… don’t know anything about spies.  
> Prompt: Spies/espionage  
> Pairing: none; Trott, Ross, Alex  
> 

Ross tightened the strap of his trench coat to keep out the cold December wind. He was standing in a darkened alley, back pressed against the hard bricks of the building on the left. A quick look at his watch showed that it was two minutes until the appointed meeting time. Ross shoved his hands into his pockets.

There was a crunch of boots on gravel a moment later as a man wearing a balaclava came around the corner into the alley. He looked over his shoulder before he walked up to Ross.

“Do you have it?” Ross asked.

“Of course,” the man said. He reached into his pocket, then held up a small, golden key. “But it’s gonna cost you.” He removed the balaclava and shook his head.

The only light was a single street lamp several feet away from them, but the yellow glow still caught on the metal key and the man’s hair had a low shine across it.

“How much?” Ross asked.

The man smiled. He stepped closer to Ross and boxed him in. “A kiss.”

“Cut!” Trott said. “Smith, we’ve been at this for an hour already. Just do the scene properly so we can go home.”

“Yes, please. My hands are freezing.” Ross rubbed his hands together, shifting on his feet.

“I’m just trying to make this more interesting,” Alex sighed. He turned and leaned into the wall, shoulder bumping into Ross’. “I don’t even _like_ spy movies. Why are we trying to make one?”

“Because Ross’ script is brilliant.” Trott readjusted the camera he was holding. “Now, let’s start again-”

“It may be brilliant, but it could benefit from a little sexual tension,” Alex said. “Like what if the spy’s main motivation for working for the main character is because he’s in love with him? Have there been any spy movies like that?”

“I have no idea if there are any gay spy movies,” Ross said honestly.

“Then maybe that’s what we should be making. Not that your script isn’t great, but this is something the people want.” Alex pulled the balaclava back on.

“And how do _you_ know that it’s what the people want?” Trott gave Alex a pointed look.

Alex grinned. “I’ve seen some things on tumblr.”

“Ah,” Trott said. “Of course you have.” He waved his hand. “Whatever, I guess we can try it. Go back around the corner.”

Alex brushed past Trott and out of the alley.

Ross raised an eyebrow. “Does this mean we have to kiss?”

Trott shrugged. “Do whatever you want. It’s your script.”

“…All right.”

Trott pressed record on the camera. “Action!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /Shrugs


	20. Present Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this could be some type of AU but… I don’t know exactly what it would be.  
> Prompt: Present shopping  
> Pairing: none; Sips, Alex (tho it’s implied sips/lewis and alex/ross/trott)  
> 

“What do you think I should get them?” Alex asked Sips.

Sips shrugged. “You didn’t ask them what they wanted?”

They were at the mall, weaving in and out of various stores. Everything was decorated for the holidays and cheery Christmas music played over the speakers. Even though it was eight at night, there was still a fairly large crowd out shopping. It was five day until Christmas; Alex didn’t exactly like waiting until the last minute, but he had been so preoccupied with other things that he had almost forgot he had yet to get gifts for Trott and Ross.

“Asking them does no good.” Alex followed Sips into a knick-knack store. There were numerous candles, pictures, and wood carvings on display, but Alex wasn’t interested. “What about you? Know what you’re getting Lewis?”

“I have a few ideas,” Sips said. He picked up a snow globe and gave it a shake. The tree inside was put in the middle of an underwater blizzard. Sips held it up to Alex, but Alex frowned at it.

“What kind of ideas? Anything that would suit Trott or Ross?”

Sips pursed his lips and stared hard at the snow globe for a moment. Then he set it down. “Well, Trott likes coffee doesn’t he? You could always get him one of those Keurig machines. And Ross loves Superdry, so why not a new sweatshirt?”

Alex thought about it. Those _were_ practical gifts, but he was looking for something a little more special. He could always go with classic gift cards or certificates. He wanted to step it up this Christmas if he could.

“Those things are boring,” Alex found himself saying. His eyes skimmed over a shelf of miniature glass animals. “What if I just didn’t get them anything? Think they’d be mad?”

“Smiffy, come on, that’s just rude.” Sips turned to Alex. “Your boys mean a lot to you, yeah? So act like it.” He jabbed a finger into Alex’s chest. “You need to get them something they won’t easily forget.”

Alex tilted his head. “Like a vacation?”

“That _could_ work.” Sips turned and walked out of the store, Alex right behind him.

They walked next to each other, Alex’s eyes scanning the plentiful jewelers boasting holiday sales. He had went that route last year, and it had been nice enough. Alex sighed. Why was it so hard to shop for presents?

Sips stopped abruptly and Alex almost walked past him. He glanced at Sips, who nodded his head at the store they were in front of. Alex looked, taking in the glittery, bright pink walls and reflective black flooring. There were four mannequins behind the glass all sporting sleek lingerie and Santa hats.

Alex turned back to Sips, whose lips were curled into a smirk.

“Is _this_ what you’re getting Lewis?” Alex motioned vaguely at the store that was teeming with young women.

Sips held up his hands. “You got me.”

Alex laughed, but he gave the store a serious consideration. It would be a bold move, and perhaps if he spent enough, Ross and Trott would know that it wasn’t a joke. Alex tried to picture them in different types of undergarments, and although it was a bit difficult, he was pleased with the image.

“So?” Sips asked. “You coming in, or are you gonna wait on a bench?”

Alex took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Let’s go. I’ll need your expertise.”

Sips grinned. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually hate victoria’s secret and wont ever go in one lmao but the boys in something sexy? sign me the fuck up


	21. Playing Dress-up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some random AU where the hat boys and sips are retail workers at the same store and all of them are in a relationship.  
> Prompt: Playing dress-up  
> Pairing: Sips/Trott/Ross/Alex  
> 

Sips had agreed to be Santa on one condition. At the time, the condition hadn’t felt very drastic to any of the boys, but now that they were at home. Sips held up a plastic bag with a wicked smirk and they were having some serious regrets.

“I did my job today,” Sips said. “I wore the damn beard and had kids sit their filthy asses on me.” He shook the bag. “Now it’s your boys’ turn.”

They knew what was in the bag because they had watched Sips order the outfits yesterday and had them shipped priority to the retail store they worked at. It was supposed to be a funny little joke, and three of them hadn’t thought twice about having to wear what Sips picked out.

But seeing Sips holding the bag, dark eyes taunting, it was unnerving.

“So, we just have to _wear_ the outfits, right?” Trott, standing between Ross and Alex, took a step forward. “That’s what we agreed on.”

Sips clicked his tongue. “No, Trott, that isn’t the _only_ thing we agreed on.”

“Remind us then,” Alex said, and crossed his arms.

“You put these puppies on, and then you’re going to do whatever I say.”

“Are you sure we agreed on that?” Ross asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know if we did,” Alex added.

Sips shoved the bag at Trott. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this. I agreed to be Santa all day for _three_ days, and you boys said you’d dress up in an outfit of my choosing and do anything I said for at least an hour.” He dropped onto the sofa. “So get to it.”

The three exchanged looks. Trott sighed, then told Ross and Alex to follow him to the bedroom so they could change.

“And don’t take twenty years! We don’t have all night,” Sips called after them.

Alex flipped him off before they disappeared down the hall.

* * *

“We look ridiculous,” Alex said. “Well, except Trott. But that’s only because you’re small.”

“Thanks,” Trott said, “but you two don’t look half bad.” He pulled at the bottom of the dress. “You know Sips won’t laugh at us. The bastard gets off on shit like this.”

Ross glanced at the clock by the bed. “We better go out there. It’s already been twenty minutes.”

“We could just wait for him to inevitably come in here if we wait long enough,” Alex suggested.

Trott shook his head, his Santa hat almost sliding off. He readjusted it. “Let’s just go get this over with.”

They walked back out to the living room, where Sips still sat, sprawled on the sofa, phone in his hand. As they lined up before him, a wide smile came onto his face. He told them to turn and they rotated slowly. Once they were facing him again, Sips let out a harsh laugh.

Alex leaned into Trott. “What was that about him not laughing?”

Sips lifted his phone up, and all three knew that they should scatter if they didn’t want their picture taken. But they heard the sound of the camera and it was too late. Sips then tossed his phone onto the coffee table and spread out his arms. “Come to Santa, my sexy elves.”

Each one of them, dressed in a short green body con dress paired with red and white striped stockings and a Santa hat, approached Sips.

“Trott, you can sit on my lap.” Sips patted his thighs.

Trott bit his tongue, wanting desperately to make a remark. He stayed quiet and placed himself on one of Sips’ thighs, his legs resting across the other. Alex and Ross sat on either side of Sips.

“Isn’t this nice?” Sips asked. He ran his hand up Trott’s leg to where there was a strip of skin showing between the top of the stocking at the hem of the short dress. He smoothed his thumb across the soft flesh there. “I should dress you boys up more often.”

Alex snorted. “Fat chance.”

Sips sighed. “No, I think it’s a good idea. Maybe next time I’ll make you wear a muzzle so I don’t have to listen to your snarky comments.”

Ross hummed an amused tune and Trott couldn’t hold back a smile. Alex rolled his eyes.

“I feel like something is missing,” Sips said. He looked between the three men. “Trott, go get the makeup.”

“What?” Alex was clearly surprised. “You can’t be serious…”

“Oh, I am.” Sips looked at his watch. “I still have forty minutes of fun left.” He shooed Trott off his lap. “Go on, Trott.” Trott slid from Sips’ lap and went. “Now, Alex, when Trott gets back you’re gonna be the first to get dolled up.”

“Great,” Alex grumbled.

“And then you’re gonna put that mouth to good use so I don’t have to listen to you complain.” Sips smiled, put his hand on Alex’s knee and gave it a squeeze. Sips turned to look at Ross. “He never learns, does he?”

“Nope,” Ross said.

“How do you think I can make this even worse for him?”

Ross grinned. “Play Christmas music.”

Trott came back into the room holding a large case.

“What a great idea,” Sips said. He grabbed his phone. “I know just the playlist.” Sips quickly found what he wanted and turned his phone’s speakers to the max.

Ross raised an eyebrow. “Is this… Christmas trap music?”

“You bet.”

“Oh my god,” Alex said. “Please, no.”

Sips shrugged and sat back. “Better get used to it. We’ve got a while.” He pointed at Trott. “Paint him up, Trott. Give his squinty eyes lots of mascara.”

“Sure thing,” Trott said. He took out the sleek tube and unscrewed the cap. “Open up those peepers, sunshine.”

Alex tried to give Trott a pleading look, but Trott only smiled and held his face still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you haven’t lived until you've heard xmas trap music. shit is lit


	22. Vampires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the KINKtober vampire AU. Set a few months after Ross’ first experience with Alex.  
> Prompt: Vampires  
> Pairing: Alex/Ross, mentioned Alex/Trott and Trott/Sips  
> Rating: Explicit

Ross sat in a chair on the second floor balcony of the country house, just after sunset. He wore a woolen jacket that kept his body heat in against the slowly falling temperature of December. He liked to come out to the balcony off his room to look at the large fields and hilly forest, now dusted white, like a light sprinkle of confectioner’s sugar over the land. It was nice, to be back in the country again. He’d been raised out of town until he was ten, and ever since he had moved to busy London he had missed the sense of calmness that country life brought.

Well, at least it was nearly always calm.

“Just admit you’re jealous,” came a very loud but muffled voice from inside.

Ross sighed, his warm breath coming out of his mouth like smoke in the chilly air.

“I’m not jealous!” was the reply, this voice just as loud.

“You definitely are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be so keen on trying to get rid of Ross.”

“There you go again, making assumptions.”

It had been a couple months since he first agreed to stay with these vampires. Ross frowned, not liking really liking the word to describe the ageless beasts he currently resided with. It felt fictional, like some Halloween joke. But the two men inside arguing over him were far from being superficial imitations; they were the real deal, and he had been Alex’s blood bank ever since the first day he had been taken.

It wasn’t against his will. Ross had gave in to it, be it because of the promises Alex had made or the fact that Ross’ life had been stale and unfulfilling. It was most likely a mix of both. Sure, it was a bit unnerving, having his blood taken in such large amounts, but Alex treated him better than any lover he’d ever had.

Except Trott, Alex’s… partner. Ross didn’t exactly know their relationship. They seemed like friends, but at times they fought horribly, and other times he had seen them kiss quite passionately. So he didn’t know what label to put on them. And then there was Sips, a human like himself who had visited only once since Ross’ move in. The man was definitely someone important, but Ross didn’t know anything about him. He would have to ask Alex one of these days.

The door to the balcony was pulled open roughly and Ross didn’t bother to turn and see who it was. Alex slammed the door shut and huffed. He leaned against the rail, bright eyes squinting at the burnt orange sky. The moon wouldn’t be up for at least another hour.

“Sounded pretty intense in there,” Ross said.

“You know Trott,” Alex said. “He’s a constant thorn in my side.”

“I don’t think he likes me very much.” Ross wished it wasn’t so. He admired Trott; the short man was very worldly and a great teacher. Not that Alex wasn’t, but Trott was much more level-headed.

“You’re wrong,” Alex said, and he spun around, back to the rail. He looked at Ross. “The problem is he likes you _too_ much. He’s afraid I’m going to mess this up and get you killed.”

“Well, it’s nice of him to be concerned.” Ross’ heart fluttered. In the back of his mind, the thought of dying was ever-persistent. He knew Alex was dangerous, and Ross thought himself clever when he likened the man to a drug.

“No, I don’t want him to be concerned. You’re _mine_.” Alex dropped to his knees which put him at eye level with Ross. He reached out a hand as cold and as hard and smooth as marble and gripped Ross’ own gloved one. “I’m in charge of you.”

The strong words made Ross’ shiver. Alex stared intently into his eyes, and Ross saw warmth there in the steel blue. There was something about Alex that made Ross wonder what kind of human he had been. When had he been born? What had his life been like growing up? And who had made him into what he was now? Ross was desperate to ask these questions. He wanted to know every single detail he could about the man in front of him, the man who was now much like his owner.

But it wasn’t a type of ownership anyone else could experience. Ross knew he was at the complete mercy of Alex, but not once had he been forced into anything.

“He thinks you’ll easily become dissatisfied with me,” Alex spat. He frowned deeply, his brows furrowed. “Either he’s jealous of you, or he hates that he has to share me. I think it’s both.”

Ross tilted his head. “Dissatisfied?” Not one time during his stay had Ross ever even been bored. Not during the times when Alex and Trott slept and certainly not when they were awake and in the house.

Alex seemed to become temporarily shy, and he suddenly looked immensely younger. “Yes…” He bit his bottom lip, then released it and sat back on his heels. He breathed deep, but unlike Ross’ own warm breath that clouded, Alex’s did not. “It’s because I won’t ever be able to completely satisfy you… sexually.” Embarrassment was clear on Alex’s bearded face.

“Oh,” was all Ross could say for a moment. He was puzzled. “But you _have_ been, well, taking care of that?” Ross thought that perhaps he was embarrassed as well. He should just say it outright and clear.

“Yes, of course. I can use my mouth and my hands.” Here, Alex gave Ross’ hand a squeeze, and he glanced away. “But I will never be able to… how do they say it now? Fuck? I won’t ever be able to fuck you.”

Ross sat still, eyes trying to bring Alex’s own back to focus on him. Finally Alex did, and they were darkened, hardened by some foul mood that Alex pressed upon himself. Ross smiled.

“I never knew vampires couldn’t have sex.” This tiny bit of knowledge warmed Ross. Gradually he was finally learning more. And the topic of this new information didn’t put him off at all. Ross sat up straighter in the chair. “Is there a reason for it?”

“Come inside,” Alex said. Ross hoped the man wouldn’t try to change the subject on him.

Ross rose and followed Alex into the toasty room. He shrugged off his jacket and shoes, then joined Alex on the bed. It was a massive thing, so soft that it absorbed Ross’ weight and tried to engulf him, but it was comfortable, and Ross felt lavish whenever he slept in it.

“Our bodies aren’t capable of it,” Alex explained. He leaned back against the oak headboard. “When we become what we are, we basically die.” He scratched at his beard, and glanced at Ross. “Everything we don’t need is flushed out. It was excruciating.” Alex smiled wickedly, and Ross didn’t know what to make of that smile. “There have been plenty of us that didn’t make it past the death. It’s probably worse than being burned alive or trampled. But if you are able to stay sane until the end, you’ve gained something every human wishes they could attain.”

“Immortality,” Ross supplied.

“Essentially.” Alex lifted a hand and cupped Ross’ cheek. “I can still be killed, but not as easily as you can.”

Ross shivered again, although he wasn’t frightened. He had only been fearful of Alex that first time, and after Alex had drank from him, never again did Ross think he was going to be hurt.

Alex leaned into Ross, pressed their foreheads together. They were roughly the same size, body wise, but Alex had such an immense strength running through him that Ross was sure he could feel it beneath his glossy skin. Alex tipped his head up, and cool lips briefly met Ross’ own chapped ones.

“Does it disappoint you,” Alex whispered, “that we can never become one?”

 Ross licked his lips, and tried to shake his head. “I don’t mind.”

Alex looked relieved. He grinned wide, the bottoms of his sharp teeth momentarily exposed.

Ross saw the little points and his stomach twisted in excitement. It had been over a week since Alex had taken blood from him. Ross felt his body come alive, pulse quickening.

“I’m glad,” Alex said. He kissed Ross again, deeper this time. Ross couldn’t hold back a moan. Alex drew back, eyebrows raised. Ross knew he was blushing. “Do you want me?” Alex asked, voice so low Ross could barely hear it.

“Yes,” Ross murmured, and wrapped his arms around Alex, bringing their mouths together once more. Ross was anxious to heat Alex’s perpetually cold skin, wanted the creamy paleness of it to match his own tinted pink. But that would only come for a brief stay once Alex had drank from him, after the teeth had been sunk deep.

Alex hummed, and the sound vibrated from within his chest. Ross tangled his hands into Alex’s downy hair, amazed that the man never needed to bathe. The scent of him was a pungent, musky cologne that belonged in a different century mixed with cigarette smoke. It was somehow comforting to Ross. He breathed it in as Alex pushed his tongue past his lips. It slid across Ross’ own in a silky caress.

Ross felt desire fizz along his nerves. Alex was always so patient with him. To have this man, this beast, carefully pick him apart drove him mad. Ross had never tried to assert himself. Once he had secretly watched Trott roughly push Alex back against the kitchen counter. Trott only came up to Alex’s collarbones, but he had raised himself onto his tiptoes and given a bite to Alex’s neck. Alex had smiled and let it happen, not saying a word. Did Alex like that kind of thing? Would it be different if Ross attempted something similar?

“Your thoughts are straying,” Alex said after he moved away from Ross’ mouth. He slid his lips along his neck, tongued at his Adam’s apple. “What could you be thinking of?”

“Just you,” Ross confessed.

Alex hummed again. He let his lips rest on the skin just before the start of Ross’ shoulder. Ross tensed, craving the prick that would soon come. He dropped his hands to Alex’s wide back and pushed his fingertips in, trying to signal his need. He swallowed the excess saliva that had collected.

But Alex didn’t bite him. Instead, he placed a heavy hand on Ross’ covered erection that was just starting to swell beneath the thin fabric of his sweats.

It was unexpected, and Ross released a confused noise. Alex pushed past the waistband and gripped him, pressure just on the edge of too much. Ross opened his mouth, a question forming.

“Let me do this,” Alex said against his neck.

“But don’t you want-”

“Later.” The words were final.

So Ross relaxed, allowed Alex to jerk his cock in long, slow strokes that were so even and firm it almost felt mechanical. Alex moved back so that he could look at Ross’ face. Ross was panting, quick breaths that slipped silently past his lips, his chest rising and falling noticeably. Alex pulled Ross’ pants down, the band sitting along his knees. It was almost too much, having Alex’s unblinking gaze on him, and Ross’ stomach tightened when Alex thumbed at the head.

“You’re wet,” Alex purred, and stopped moving his hand to touch the slit, bringing up a clear string of precome. Ross wanted to say it was obvious, that of course he was going to react in such a way. But he didn’t have to say anything because Alex knew, and was only saying it to add kindle the fire in him.

Alex lowered his head then, and Ross groaned as he kissed the tip, lips petal soft. Then his tongue lapped, and Ross pressed his head back, longing for more, for the satiny heat of a mouth engulfing him. And teeth, Alex’s sharp teeth that he wouldn’t use.

“Please,” Ross begged. It had easily slipped from him.

Alex glanced up. “Yes?” he asked, the words brushing Ross’ cock.

“Drink from me.” Just saying it pushed Ross farther.

“I’m not hungry.” Alex grinned. He stuck out his tongue and pressed it flat along the side of Ross’ cock. He brought it up, then shoved the tip into the leaking slit.

Ross whined, a high-pitched sound that was humiliating. “Just a little,” Ross tried. He wanted the rush of heady pleasure it would bring.

Alex rolled his eyes. He moved his mouth from Ross’ cock and lifted his leg. It was still trapped in the sweat pants, but his inner thigh was exposed. Alex was fast, and it took Ross’ body a moment to register the sharp poke of teeth through his skin. Alex went deep, taking blood from his femoral artery like he had done the first time.

The sweep of satisfaction spread outward, and Ross sobbed at the strength of it. Alex’s hand on his cock tightened, and he came, mind spinning, trying and failing to stay grounded. The weightlessness settled over him momentarily and he shuddered. Alex stopped sucking and waited, tongue laving over the punctures, healing them.

Alex raised his sticky fingers to Ross’ open mouth and shoved them inside. Ross licked at them, tasting his own salty musk. When Alex was content, he replaced the fingers with his lips, and kissed Ross.

“I adore you,” Alex said with a sigh. He held Ross’ face in both his hands. “I definitely think Trott is jealous that I get to experience you like this.”

The bedroom door opened, and Ross and Alex turned to see Trott standing in the threshold.

“I told you before, I’m not jealous. Obviously you forget that there is another human we keep close.”

Alex looked confused for a moment. He sat back, staring at Trott. But then his eyes went wide.

“You… and Sips?”

Trott smiled proudly. “I told you I wasn’t jealous.” He pulled the door shut with a bang.

“Damn him,” Alex cursed. “I should have known. It was obvious.”

Ross sat quietly, mind still hazy and not sure he could say anything of comfort at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> legit i could write this au forever


	23. Roadside Diners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Roadside diners  
> Pairing: Alex wants Sips  
> 

“How much further? I’m fuckin’ starving,” Alex whined.

“The sign said ten miles,” Trott said.

“How long ago did we see the sign?” Alex asked. He fiddled with the radio to distract himself, switching it from the Christmas music that had been playing.

“Smith, change that back,” Ross demanded from the backseat.

“I thought you were asleep.” Alex sighed, but did it.

They were on an impromptu road trip. Alex had wanted to do something spontaneous, and so he had volunteered Trott’s car to take them out. There was no destination; they were just driving for the sake of it, until they ran out of fuel and had to stop and fill up. It had lasted most of the day, and now they were on their way home. Alex wanted to go for longer, but Trott and Ross were getting tired.

And sadly, Alex didn’t bring snacks. No one had brought snacks. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was already nearing midnight. He was so hungry that he was starting to feel weak and shaky.

Finally, a few minutes later the glow of the twenty-four hour diner shone like a beacon of hope as they approached. The parking lot was empty except for one vehicle. Trott parked, and Alex tore off his seat belt, whipped open the door, slammed it, and practically sprinted for the restaurant.

Alex went inside, and the smell of old coffee, syrup, and cigarette smoke hit his nose. He beelined for the row of stools that were at the front counter. Alex just made it to them and got comfortable as Trott and Ross came into the building.

There was a menu on the counter, and Alex picked it up. His eyes scanned the various breakfast dishes, soups, and sandwiches, wanting to order everything. Ross and Trott sat down either side of him. From the kitchen, they could hear rock music and the clink of glasses. Then a man wearing a stained apron and a massive golden watch came through the swing door. His uninterested expression changed in a blink, and he offered a warm smile.

Alex stared, momentarily forgetting he was hungry for actual food. The man was hot, but in a different kind of way, almost unexpectedly. Perhaps a plain way. Alex couldn’t understand why he thought so. He glanced at Ross and Trott, but the two were on their phones.

“What can I get you boys?” the man asked. Alex searched out a nametag, and found it. It read ‘Chris’ in curled, red lettering.

“I’ll have the stack of pancakes, fried eggs, toast, bacon, and orange juice,” Alex rattled off. He set the menu down.

Chris nodded. “You two?”

Trott and Ross got sandwiches and coffee. Alex picked at the bent edge of the menu, trying to keep his eyes off Chris, but failing. The man grabbed two mugs from underneath the counter and set them on top, then poured in the coffee. He looked at Alex, holding up the pot.

“Want any? Just made this batch an hour ago.”

Alex momentarily forgot how to speak. He blinked, then nodded dumbly. Chris retrieved another mug, and set the warm liquid in front of him.

“I’ll start on the food. If you need anything, just holler.” He went back to the kitchen.

Trott pointed at Alex’s mug. “You don’t drink coffee.”

“I do now,” Alex said. He reached across Ross for the sugar packets. As he dumped in several, Trott made a face. Ross joined Alex.

Trott gave a frustrated sigh. “Why must you two ruin coffee?”

“Because, Trott, some of us don’t like the bitter taste,” Ross said.

“Then why are you drinking coffee? That’s the whole point!”

“I thought the point was the caffeine?” Alex asked. He raised the mug to his lips and took a sip. It still tasted like shit, but he’d deal with it.

“That’s half of it. But why bother with something if you don’t like it?”

“I like it,” Ross said. “I just want it sweeter.”

“You consume too much sugar,” Trott complained. He picked up his own mug. “And Alex eats too much. You both are going to die young.”

“Good. I think I’d hate being old,” Alex said.

It went quiet between them. Alex glanced around the small diner. It had a red and white color scheme, with several worn booths along the front wall. The tiled floor was, for the most part, clean. It wasn’t overly warm inside, so he kept his jacket on. Alex wondered how busy it was during the day.

“So,” Alex started. He kept his voice quiet. He could hear the sizzle of cooking coming from the kitchen. “What do you guys think of the waiter?”

Trott shrugged. “Seems friendly enough.”

“Yup,” Ross agreed.

“Yeah, but do you think he’s good looking?”

Trott gave Alex a confused eyebrow raise. “I wasn’t really paying that close of attention.”

“He kind of looked old,” Ross said.

“Old?” Alex hissed. For some reason he felt personally attacked. “I doubt he’s past thirty-five.”

“That’s kind of old.” Ross took out his phone again.

Alex rolled his eyes. “When he comes out, make sure you take a good look.”

Trott leaned his elbows on the shiny countertop. “Why’s it matter? I thought the only thing you’d be caring about right now is food.”

“Well yeah, I care about food, but that’s not going to magically cloud my vision or something.”

“You sure?” Ross teased.

“Yes, Ross, I’m sure.” Alex tapped his fingers along the side of the mug. He thought that maybe he should drink the coffee before it went cold.

Chris pushed open the door with his hip, a plate in each hand. He set Ross and Trott’s sandwiches down, then looked at Alex. “Yours is almost done, big boy.” He gave a wink before he returned to the kitchen.

Alex swallowed hard, and hit Trott’s shoulder. “Did you hear what he said?”

“Yeah, he called you a big boy, and he isn’t wrong.”

“But did you see what he did? He winked at me!”

“Looked like he had something in his eye,” Ross said.

“You two are fuckin’ idiots.” Alex watched them begin to eat, stomach complaining loudly. He kept his mouth shut, feeling somewhat betrayed by the two of them.

When Chris came out again, it was with Alex’s food. He went back to get the orange juice, then stood, hands on his hips, looking proud.

Alex smothered his pancakes in butter and syrup, then started to inhale. Trott frowned, and Ross shook his head. Alex didn’t care. The food was heavenly and he felt like a starved dog graciously offered a steak. He didn’t even notice that Chris was staring at him with a pleased little smile.

He ate faster than Ross and Trott, and was done before both of them. Alex set his fork and knife on the empty plate, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. He raised his eyes, and looked directly at Chris.

“Have room for pie?” Chris asked.

Alex didn’t hesitate to say yes. He didn’t even care what kind it was. Chris went to get it. Ross and Trott leaned back and exchanged a look behind Alex’s back.

Chris returned and handed over the piece. Alex took it, and knew by the smell that it was apple. It was steaming hot, and had a perfectly round scoop of vanilla ice-cream on top. He dove into it, and it was beyond delicious. He didn’t care that he was burning his tongue trying to eat it.

“You two want some?” Chris asked, pointing at Ross and Trott.

“I’m good,” Trott said. “Thanks.”

Ross shook his head. “Just the bill.”

Chris punched the keys on the cash register while Alex finished the pie. He made sure to get every last crumb that he could. Chris gave each of them their receipt.

Alex looked at the prices for the things he had ordered, and noticed they were slightly cheaper than he remembered. Alex dug through his wallet, but only found a couple singles. He tossed them on the counter and held up his credit card. Chris took it.

Ross and Trott had enough cash on them, and they stood, preparing to leave. Alex sat still, not wanting to go. For some reason he wished to have a long conversation with Chris, find out who the man was, what he liked to do and what he was looking forward to.

Chris pushed a receipt and a pen in front of him along with his card, then began to gather the used plates. Alex signed his name. He stared down at the receipt, then glanced at Chris’ back. He flipped the paper over.

“Alex, come on. I want to make it home sometime today,” Trott said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex stood. He followed Ross and Trott out of the diner.

The chilly night air washed away the comfort he had been immersed in, and Alex desperately wanted to turn around and go back inside. But his feet took him towards Trott’s car.

Once there, Alex spilled. “I left him my number on the receipt,” he said with a grin.

“What?” Ross made an almost scandalized noise.

“Yup. And a little note that said we all found him incredibly attractive.”

“I bet you didn’t put it quite like that,” Trott said.

“Nope.” Alex opened the passenger door and climbed in. “I said he was hot and that we’re always up for a foursome.”

Ross and Trott got in as well.

“God, you’re disgusting,” Trott laughed.

“But you’re not wrong,” Ross hummed, amused. “He actually was pretty hot.”

Trott started up the car. Alex wondered how long it would take to get a response.


	24. Late At Night, No One Else Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Late at night, no one else awake  
> Pairing: none; Lewis, Sips  
> 

Lewis opened the sliding door from the yard and stepped back into Sips’ house. He had just got off the phone with his dad, helping him figure out how to set up a new smart TV a cousin had gotten him. And of course to wish him a merry Christmas, and that he’d see him in a few days.

It was getting late, and before the call Lewis had been watching one of the Rudolf movies with Sips and his son. Lewis walked back to the living room and was about to announce his return. But he stopped in the threshold.

Sips was on the right side of the sofa, his son tucked up under his arm. They were both sound asleep, the TV playing the movie credits with Christmas music soft in the background. Lewis stood, watching them for a moment. Sips’ head was tipped forward, and it reminded Lewis of his own dad. He smiled and turned around, not wanting to disturb them.


	25. Going Home For Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song fic? Song fic (somewhat). This includes one of my favorite Christmas songs. I wish they would have sang it on the karaoke live streams.  
> Prompt: Going home for Christmas  
> Paring: none; Turps, Alex, Trott, Ross  
> 

Turps was driving them home from a long weekend trip to London right before the holidays. Because of bad weather they had to stay an extra day, and so now it was late afternoon on Christmas Eve, and they were stuck in traffic on their way back to Bristol.

And of course, Turps was in full Christmas spirit. He had his phone hooked up to the radio and was entertaining Trott, Ross, and Alex with some car-karaoke to all the holiday staples.

“Aw yes,” Turps said, turning up the volume, “this is one of my favorite songs.”

“You’ve been saying that for _every_ song,” Alex huffed. He was sitting in the passenger seat.

“Yeah, but _this one_ is an extra favorite.” The beginning instrumentals were full of upbeat piano keys accompanied by more reserved guitar. “It’s a 1980s classic. You should sing along.”

Alex rolled his eyes. He was getting sick of Turps’ horrible singing. He could only handle so much of it while he was sober.

The vocals started, and Turps’ began to sing over top of Chris Rea’s voice. “I’m driving home for Christmas.” Turps’ slowed the car as the line of vehicles in front of them came to another stand still. He turned to Alex. “Oh I can’t wait to see those faces.”

Alex groaned. From the backseat, Trott and Ross didn’t try to hide their smiles.

“I’m driving home for Christmas, yeah.” Turps’ wiggled in his seat.

“You sure are driving,” Alex sighed.

“Well I'm moving down that line.” Turps let off the breaks as the cars began to move again. “And it’s been so long, but I will be there. I sing this song, to pass the time away-”

Alex interrupted with a brief, “There are other ways to pass the time.”

“-Driving in my car, driving home for Christmas.” And then it was a brief instrumental break. Turps had to slow the car once again. He turned to look at Alex. “No need to be a Grinch, Alex. You boys in the back can sing along too.”

“We’re good,” Trott said.

“Keep belting it out, Turps,” Ross laughed.

The singing started again, and so did Turps. Alex wished he had remembered to dig out his headphones from his bag, but it was locked in the trunk and he doubted Turps would pull over and risk losing their spot in the traffic line.

Turps’ voice started to get a bit scratchy. “So I sing for you, though you can’t hear me-”

“I definitely can!” Alex shouted quickly over the music.

“-When I get through, and feel you near me.” Turps threw out hand and gripped Alex’s shoulder.

Alex heard the muffled laughter from the backseat and shook his head. He didn’t bother to remove Turps’ hand. He just sat back and started out the windshield at the long string of red taillights ahead of them while Turps sang passionately.

The song was only four minutes, but of course to Alex it felt like an excruciating long time. When it finally ended, he thanked god that it was over while Trott and Ross clapped and cheered.

The next song started. “I love this one,” Turps said. “You all definitely know it, so there’s no excuses not to sing. Especially you, Alex. Let us hear that angelic voice.”

Alex leaned his head against the cold side window and fogged it with his breath. He wondered if they were ever going to make it home in time. When Turps started to sing again, he could faintly hear Ross and Trott joining him. Alex let out one last long sigh before he gave in. He might as well. After all, it _was_ Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These past 25 days have been great fun. I’ve graduated from college this month (finally!) and I’ve loved writing every one of these prompts. Thanks to all who have read them, left comments and kudos, and participated in the advent. I hope that next year treats you well!


End file.
